Writing the Uncomfortable

Writing slams me against uncomfortable situations. Sometimes an image I want to use in a poem comes from a dark place inside me. I struggle with myself about whether to haul it to the light.

It is hard to write if I favor only the good parts, happy times, moments of delight. I need to honor the times in my life when things don't go well, the times of bitterness and anger, times when I feel lost.

Writing provides a path and a place to acknowledge my darkness, secrets, fears, anger and pain, to come to terms with them and let them go.

I can choose to share the writing or not. But the writing itself is a catalyst to release what needs to dissipate.

In order to write, to be a poet, I need to bring all of myself to the page, the dark and the light. Both are parts of me. 

Together they make me whole.

The Company of Cats

The Company of Cats

I love cats, not just a single cat, buts cats.   I can’t imagine my life without cats.  But, not everyone understands this.

When someone comes to our door, the cats all come running, tails straight up, offering greetings, rubs and chirps and meows.   The visitor looks and asks, “How many cats do you have?”  They think, “Are you nuts?”  I think, “Can’t you count?”

I defend my choice to have cats because I love having cats.  And it’s no one’s business but my own, the number of cats living here.  We look after them, feed them nutritious food and take them to the Vet for shots and check-ups.  We brush them daily and trim their claws as needed.  We keep their water and their litter clean.  Yes, the cats create work, as does any pet, but our cats are worth it.  Our kitties are well looked after and in turn look after us.

When I am ill (and I’ve had months of that), they comfort me—lie down beside me or on top of me to rest and purr me well.   It is impossible to nap too much for them.  They are solicitous when I am upset; enquiring in chirpy voices about what is bothering me.   When I am happy and full of energy, they are willing to play until I am tired again.  How can I not love my cats?

When I am writing, they congregate in the room with me, on the bed, on the window ledge, on a bookcase or at my feet.  When I am stuck with a piece, they respond with a chirp or a purr, a questioning look or an encouraging gaze.  They keep me company and don’t disturb my work...well not too much.  There are times when they want to sit on the writing desk and put their paws out to capture my hand for a pat or a rub.  There are times when they know I should take a break and they sit on my paper or jump off the desk with my pen.

I asked a cat-breeder and friend, “How do I know if I’ve turned into a crazy cat lady?”  She chuckled.  “When there are more cats than people in the household.”   It’s too late.  We crossed that line three years ago.

Edward Gorey, a renowned artist and writer, loved cats too.  He contended “between 4 or 5 didn’t seem to make any difference,” though 6 were too many, “disproportionately more, than five.”   We are not at 6, nor even at 5.  Like his cats, ours don’t go outdoors, ever.  But indoor cats don’t lose their wildness, “they retain all their jungly qualities no matter what.”

Isn’t that what makes cats so fascinating?  The unpredictable balance between affection and wildness.  I think it is.  And cats so obviously see the world in a healthy way.  They know how to measure the times for rest and play and serious work.  Cats bring a fresh perspective to everything.

How many cats do we have?  Well, we love the company of cats.  I believe there is always room for one more. 

As long as we stop before six, of course.

NOTE:            To learn more about Edward Gorey, please click here.  The photos are copyright @Carol Steel and are of Oliver and Nicholas, two of our very fine cats.

Surprise

Surprise.  Surprise carries sorrow or delight or sometimes both.

There is surprise and delight when sighting a red fox as it stalks insects, beetles or grasshoppers, perhaps voles or mice in the golden grass of a sand dune.  There is also sorrow or empathy for the captured prey, if it happens to be a small bird, or bird's eggs or turtle's eggs.

Life is full of surprises, full to the brim with delights and sorrows.

On the days when sorrow fills the cup, may there be equal measure of delight.  May the two find balance, this equilibrium which all of life seeks.

 Oh but, isn't this red fox gorgeous?

Text written in colour will take you to another site with additional information if you click on it.  These photos were taken by my sister and brother-in-law, last week as they vacationed in Darnley PEI.

Sleep? What's That?

Do parents of young children ever get enough sleep?  The answer would seem to be, "No." 

I still remember being so tired, I was able to fall asleep anywhere, anytime, when my children were small.  They had erratic sleep patterns, often woke in the night, stayed awake for long stretches and didn't nap during the day.  Years of sleep deprivation; remembering makes me weary, even now, thirty some years later.

We have grandchildren visiting.  No naps today, except for parents, grateful for grandparents' extra help, so they can rest.

Brightly coloured leaves dropped into our yard (ours, plus contributions from neighbours) to cover the lawns.  We'll rake them into piles later, make them ready for leaping and jumping and shrieking with delight--once the parents awake.

The parents are escaping this evening.  Because they are here, they'll have the rare opportunity to get out by themselves and to experience a quiet, elegant meal away from home, without the company of persons under three years.

Luxury!

I remember those times, too.  The beauty of an evening together without any children, and the bonus of free babysitting.  Hope they enjoy their time together being a couple again, as much as we used to appreciate escapes by ourselves.

It is important to have balance between being a couple and being a parent, especially when there isn't enough sleep to go round.

This photo is mine.

Balance is What I Need

"Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance, order, rhythm and harmony.”

~Thomas Merton

I have been busy this week; busy enough to interfere with my writing.  That doesn’t feel good on many levels.

I need to write every day; balance amongst the ordinary tasks that one must do, the unusual surprises that arise and the daily discipline of writing.

This week, schedules were complicated. Gary returned to work on a six-month contract, so our routines have changed, and work-at-home-sharing has shifted.  We are both tired from the change, though adjusting rapidly.

Both my mother and I had doctor’s appointments and multiple tests and the resulting trips to the pharmacy this week; many hours of time!

Perhaps the week felt busier because the weather has been delightful; finally lovely melting summer has arrived.  I wasn’t able to enjoy the peacefulness of the yard as much as the weather coaxed me to do, so felt resentful about all that took me away from that pleasure.

As the week progressed, I have become more and more weary until finally today I was in tears over nothing—an unusual situation for me and further evidence of exhaustion and not enough “me” time.

Why do I have to keep re-learning this lesson?  The answer, I suppose, is that I keep ignoring that if I don’t look after my own needs, they will impinge upon the rest of my life.

I’ll do better at this.  It is a growing edge in my life, one that calls for attention and creativity.

It’s time for a “Carol Day” where nothing from the outside is allowed in and total focus can be given to what I need.  From that meditative beginning, I can find ways to achieve balance on a daily basis.

Balance is what I need.  Balance is really what we all need!

photo is mine