Tending Twilight

the day darkens. i get too tired. i find the housework oppressive.

i ask for help, then don’t want it. like in the decluttering. i don’t know why it bothered me. what to do with the tapes from my old show? leave me alone.

Today #snowday #gopark #riverside #park #urban...
Snow day in Riverside Park via mbcoudal

the snow — more of the same color of the same grey sky.

i like when the sky is a crisp blue, like today. then i can forgive the weather gods. i can go on. but when dark and grey, i want to stay in bed. i have only a few weeks left of winter. i would like them to be azure blue.

i would like blue sky days. but after all the grey — why is grey so like death?

i go to Florida — old people, malls, alligators.

for a few days, i sleep in a twin bed, and laugh with Nicole and my brother, (and dad and Marty). we talk about creativity.

Tonite at the lower school #sunset #riverdale ...
Lower school sunset in Riverdale via mbcoudal

that is the start of my spring. and that is followed by the buds on the trees in Riverside Park.

my kids get older, get away from me, find fault in me, our apartment, why don’t we have nicer floors?

the sun does not ask for thanks. so i try to just give light too. just do my job — mother, wife. but the endless giving becomes a chore.

sure, the sun must want a thank you. the grey day gets no thanks. for it takes my energy. it does not give. it is the negative ion. i need the positive.

the wind whips and the shadows blend into dark night. i know spring comes after winter, always taking me by surprise. then the summer. lighter, longer days of laughter, hugs.

we are destined for spring.

Laughter is the language of the soul
Laughter is the language of the soul (Photo credit: symphony of love)

I wrote this in a writing group last weekend. Here’s more writing from a blogger in the group: Wendy: the prompt that made me cry

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Your Messy Life

It’s amazing that when authors admit their flaws, weaknesses, suckishness on their blogs or in books like Donald Miller’s “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years,” people love it. Admitting you have a lousy life frees people to admit they do too. Being brutally honest creates some kind of safety net or hope.

If I blog about how awesome I am, how brilliant my kids are, how pristine my house is, I will lose readers. But if I write, ‘Dangit, I am having the worst day. My husband and my job are so annoying.  My kids are spoiled. I have caught three mice in my kitchen over the last month,’ I will keep my 29 readers (and hope to eventually lose the mice). 

I don’t know why this works. Maybe readers feel, ‘Thank God I don’t have her life. She’s a mess. My life’s not so bad. My house is much tidier.’

The trick is not to make the everyday honesty seem like a perpetual state of complaining or whining. Throw in a little bit of your awesomeness after you hook people with your chaos.

And make the mess of your true life story seem real and funny. Like, you don’t take yourself or your sucky life all that seriously. Because it is true, this difficult life will pass, perhaps to be replaced by challenges even more difficult, and therefore potentially even more humorous.

My advice to bloggers? Throw open the curtains to the mess of your life and you find you are not alone.

So you open the shades wide into the living room of your difficult life and let everyone, including the sunshine, in. Let the party start. Eventually, the party will wind down. Let everyone go to home.

And then, close your curtains again. Create mystery. I’m not really sure how to do this. I personally am much more with the TMI camp — I like hearing all the details about peoples’ messy lives. I don’t like that my life is difficult. But I like that your life is difficult. That makes me happy – and human.