Giving up my Work.

It’s December 4^th and I just decided to not prioritize my novel, my work, for the entire month of December, as there is always so much tension and never enough time this time of year. The decision was troubling to me…especially since I also recently decided play hooky from my writing group in December. If I am working so hard on self-care and love then why was I so willing to sacrifice my work? Why are Ramona’s performances, her birthday party, holiday festivities more important? Isn’t this self depreciation?

No.

December is a time for me to withdraw into care for home, family, friends, but also for self. The hearth. It is the time to get the house together, to renew, to re coup. To pack up the old useless stuff and send it off.

Our work – who we are in the world and the mark we leave-, if we tap into our innermost selves, is our true voice. But nothing can always be on; eternal growth is capitalist myth. The voice needs rest. Minds need to digest. Ideas need to percolate. Our private lives need to be honored. Even machines wear out if you leave them on all the time.

In December I get my house in order. I honor home and care. I read the books that have being piling up in my “to read” stack. I purge and clean my house to ready it for our guests/friends and to make space for the new year. I focus my attention on giving and decorating for friends and holidays. I hold no expectations nor cling to outcomes. I make sure my daughter knows how important she is and I prioritize her winter performances; the costumes, rehearsals, the tickets, transportation; you know, things that the world doesn’t really think matters. Withdrawing is part of the cycles life. It moves us into the future. It is ending a cycle and preparing for the next. Its looking in and taking care. 

I used to complain about Ramona’s birthday being in December, but now I see the blessing. It has changed me. It has shown me how to submit to the cycles, and a whole, rich life. A plant can not always be in bloom, lest it wither and die.

In January it will be 2017. A new year.

Low Tide Beach

A trip to the ocean is a way for me to renew, foster a connection with the world around me and a reminder that I belong somewhere. The ocean is one of the very few constants in my life, and greeting her is like greeting an old familiar friend, arms wide open. Ramona and I have been going to the beach together since she was 9 months old; it has become our special mini-trip (as you might know from reading my blog). The ocean brings me peace and connection. As a child I stayed twice during the summer with my dad in a cabin on an Island in the gentle Puget sound. There was a little trail that went down to the beach. The beach was so empty of people, that it was always a surprise on those rare occasions that someone would come walking into view. At six and seven year of age, I was set loose to play on the beach alone for hours. I knew how to become one with universe when I was a kid. It was possibly one of the last times that I felt safe, there at the water's edge.  Within a month my father was arrested and sent to prison for almost three years and I left the state of Washington with my mother to spend the next decade moving from neighborhood to neighborhood, town to town, state to state.

But, I hope for my child I can create situations that will lead to the same sort of connection that I felt during those summer days on the Island. maybe one day I will find a perfect island cabin to call ours for a while.

Besides connection, our trips to the ocean are like mini-travels. I travel to open and change perspective, to remove my self from the place in space that entraps me now. No house to clean, no wifi or laptop, no friends to socialize with, no habits to habitate with, nothing to make or write, no way to get to work...leaving me with only reality, the moment, to experience and explore.

Yesterday was a super low tide at sunset, so we had to go!