Zesty Mom Oldies But Goodies

How I Missed May

6/1/2014

I woke up the other morning and learned that Maya Angelou had died.

I hadn't even had coffee. I hadn't even gotten out of bed. Of course, I know that switching on a device and plugging into Facebook before my feet even touch the ground is not usually the best way to start a day, but I had done it, and it started the day in a most solemn way.

My foggy brain recalled that I had meant to post one of her poems back in April, but I couldn't honestly remember if I had done it. That poem, Still I Rise, is something I've repeated in my mind a lot in recent weeks, but I had no recollection of whether or not I'd written about it.

That led me to realize that I couldn't actually recall the last thing I had written here at all.

Upon looking, I discovered that while I did post my favorite Maya poem, I hadn't posted anything at all for the entire month of May.

Oops.....

Yeah. That's a big boofah in the world of writing~ you're supposed to be regular and consistent with creating content, and blah, blah, blah. Writers are supposed to write, but life happens, you know? And I'm willing to bet most people understand that.

I did write some in my journal and in random notebooks~ just nothing that ever needs to be seen by anyone else's eyeballs. My words seemed raw and vulnerable, and they kept rollings towards a roller coaster of emotional whack-o-ness that was not fit for public display.

To be honest, it just felt like a downer to keep going on about things that sucked~ like my words were stuck on worries and stresses and things I really had no control over. Not where I wanted to be and certainly not anywhere I wanted to invite others.

Writing can sometimes be one of the most therapeutic ways for me to process, but I really didn't feel like sharing and bumming other people (or myself) out with the hard side of life.

I realized though, that I've been capturing lots and lots of pictures of the awesome stuff that has also been filling my spring days. The good stuff, of which there is plenty.

Photos are intentional reminders of the moments I want to remember~ a symbolic way of choosing joy and love over fear and pain.

So~ this is how I missed May....