I’m housesitting again. Two and a half weeks with Basil and Ginger Puppy. I was looking forward to it because I was viewing it as a writer’s retreat, albeit one with constant barking interruptions because Basil and Ginger go batshit crazy if anything with four legs and fur come within a 100 mile radius of the house.
But now I’m here, I’m lethargic, and the last thing I wanna do is write. It could be the allergy meds I’m on. Between the prolonged exposure for almost three weeks to various dogs and the heat, my nose is basically allowing a needle’s width of air to get through.
Nothing really has been going on lately. I’ve had coffees and lunches and drinks with several lovely people. I’ve been working on the rewrite, and trying not to whack myself with the Go Faster stick too hard. I’ve been reading my Bible (favorite verse lately is Luke 12, verse 32, the tail end of the Do Not Worry speech, and Jesus says “Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom.” Which cracks me up because the phrase “Little flock” could be viewed as gentle lovingkindness AND gentle sarcasm at the same time.) and talking to God seemingly every minute, praying for friends who have much bigger problems than I do (favorite insight lately is 11:00 church’s sermon today on Matthew 9, verse 1 – 8 and pointing out that Jesus healing the paralytic was actually honoring the paralytic’s friends’ faith. Meaning God honors third party faith. I’m praying for EVERYBODY, folks. It’s so much easier than praying for myself. You all are covered.)
But it still feels like something’s missing, and I think it’s hope. There’s nothing on the horizon that would be new and exciting. Last year at this time I had applied to a fellowship that, though I didn’t win (I was a top twelve finalist for), opened a door that eventually led to Act One. I also went through a session of Writer’s Boot Camp that opened the door to deepening my writer skills. They were new experiences. New experiences creates momentum, momentum creates productivity, which in turn creates hope. For me, at least.
But now, I can’t see a THING on the horizon. I’m writing, done it. I’ll eventually have to start the job search again, done it. I’m looking around, but I don’t have anything new to hang my Hope Hat on. I can try to get all Biblical about it, and say I’m in a Seed Planting Phase, and I have to wait for the seeds to sprout, so have patience, little flock, have patience.
Um, yeah. Anyone notice what my blog is called? I don’t HAVE patience. But it’s a lethargic kind of impatience right now, because it takes too much energy to get truly upset. If you don’t have the energy to hope about stuff, you don’t really have the energy to get mad that the hope isn’t being fulfilled.
I think it’s the allergy meds. I really do.
3 comments:
GIRL. I have a Hope Hat, too, with no place to hang it. Needing something on the horizon is so true for me, too - I'm goal-driven. I need something to work towards.
I've told a few people about your blog, mainly in the context of them asking me if there's anyone in LA that I'd be excited to hang with - and the way I describe your writing is "the way that I actually THINK, but she writes it all OUT." Remarkable. Stop reading my journal (but oh to be able to articulate like you do.)
If this is your "whiny," well, you have more patience than you give yourself credit for. God is doing something really cool with you right now - this I know to be true.
Hello, person that I don't know at all who lives in California! I just thought it would be interesting to let you know that I found your blog just because I was searching for the phrase "secular cupcakes" on google. (because that's how I roll!) Your blog is the only site on the inter-net that contains the phrase "secular cupcakes". Good for you! Also it was a pretty good blog entry.
I have stuff to hang my hope hat on and it's a bit tiresome. I'm trying to get over the need for a hope hat by just working slowly and surely at a few things.
Damnit.
Hope hats are more fun!
Post a Comment