“No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out the other side. Or you don’t.” -Stephen King
“Pick a color and write what ever comes to mind when thinking of that color.” This was a writing exercise I took on about 25 years ago. I sat there and pondered and then I began to write. Before I knew it, I had written 3 pages about what the color blue meant to me. My thoughts ran the gamut, from the color of the sky, the ocean and my eyes to the color of my deepest despair. In preparing to write this piece I Googled the word blue. Once again, I came across more than anticipated, but some of the descriptions I identified with were: Calm, Sad, Responsibility, Loyalty, Intelligence, Communication, and Trust.
The other day, my son came out to the backyard where I sat enjoying the calm of my little garden. He wanted to show me what he had received in the mail. It was the diploma he had worked so very hard for, something I had basically begged him to get. As the years rolled on, there were times when he would seem so lost or at a complete standstill and I would tell him, “Get the piece paper.” He stood there, towering over me and said, “I got the piece paper.” My heart swelled as the tears rolled down my cheeks and once again, I conveyed how very proud I am of him. Maybe it was my dream realized and not his own, I never did get the piece of paper, but he did it and I know the journey he took to “get that piece of paper” will lead him, open doors for him, be a necessary stepping stone to where he will find his true calling. I know he doesn’t believe in such things, but I believe enough for both of us. I know that he, like myself, had to go through the challenges we have to become the people we are supposed to be. I need to believe that, to keep moving. Otherwise, I probably would have given up a long time ago.
When I read the Stephen King quote a few months back, I saved it because it resonated with me, very much so. “…that blue and lonely section of hell.” I’m still living there, I’m still sad, but I sincerely believe that I am moving in the right direction. My other son has invited me to live with him if I cannot find my way. He tells me that I can hangout with him and that I am certain to find employment on the military base, which ever one he may be assigned to. That thought gives me comfort, to know that I have a place to land if I decide to finally leave the nest and land flat on my face. I always wonder, what would it feel like to leave the security of the life I have thus far created for myself. I half think the fear alone would kill me, but I have to wonder if it is indeed, time for me to fly.
I have successfully raised two children to be independent. I have completed my responsibility and given them all I can to at least begin their journeys on their own. The question is, should our paths part? I can’t even begin to imagine the despair I would experience out there all on my own, but there may come a time where it will not be a choice for me to make. Rather, the decision will be made for me and I will need to then decide if I should stay or should I go? I love the life I have created for myself, the nest I have meticulously feathered feels so safe. After doing yardwork yesterday, I could feel my father sitting out in the yard with me, smoking his cigars. I imagined my mother somehow existing in the tree she planted some 40 years ago, providing me with the shade I so desperately needed. To this day, I feel her loyalty, helping me anytime I go to her sewing basket and find the perfect shade of thread needed to sew on a button or use her bakeware to create a tasty cake. She is with me, but I wonder if I am holding her captive by staying here. Does my fear and weakness affect others, even beyond this plane of existence? I know that’s rather conceited of me to believe, but what if?
As I’ve been writing this morning, the birds in my yard have been serenading me. Their songs are so beautiful, it’s like they are calling to each other to come to my yard because I have filled the fountain. There have even been a couple of cardinals, male and female playing on my neighbor’s stoop right outside my window. I know my cousin Red would say that they were definitely a visit from my folks, but what are they trying to tell me? I’m paying attention, but I can’t seem to understand the message. My intelligence allows me to know that the birds are not truly trying to guide me, but it feels good to believe that I am not alone.
Yesterday, my therapist asked me about my career goals. I know what I need monetarily to survive on my own and I know that I have the skill set to make a change and continue to earn a comfortable living. However, I have always hoped to somehow earn a comfortable living in a more creative manner. To be able to earn a living as a writer would be a dream come true, but it is a very unrealistic dream, one I am not prepared to venture. If I could manage to work closer to a 40 hours/week kind of job, maybe I would be able to try something more creative on the side that could possibly earn me a secondary income. (Okay, that was really weird. I stopped writing for a moment to listen to the birds arguing outside my window and the font on this one paragraph changed on its own. I realize that I may have moved the cursor and done something I didn’t know was a thing I could do, but… Okay, okay, I’m paying attention!)
The color blue also represents our communication with God, the Universe, whatever you want to call it, but I do believe in something much larger than myself. My faith gives me hope that I’m not just out here on my own, stumbling around aimlessly existing for a moment, until I no longer do. I feel like I am constantly asking the Universe, “What am I supposed to do with that?” when I notice I’m paying attention to something most may overlook. When I take a photograph, I do my best to capture the essence of what I’m feeling when I see something. I get as close to the subject as I can, crop out all the nonsense, but be certain to include what made me feel it was worthy of my attention. What am I seeing, feeling, experiencing at the moment?
I guess that’s why I’ve always enjoyed photography, to me it’s a form of magic. A photograph captures a moment in time that can never be duplicated, no matter how closely one comes to it, the moment is gone. However, a photograph captures it, frozen in time, all its nuances, everything that led to that moment is there for one to see and interpret with all of their life’s experiences…magic. Another part of the “therapy” of me writing this blog are the photos I try to include with some of my pieces. I may borrow some, but many are mine. The other day, I noticed that the face of my garden angel had fallen off and was lying on the ground looking back at herself. How interesting, self-examination, what could she see? At the moment I found her, there was nothing, but a hole where her face had been. I didn’t like that, so I place a plant in the void to show the growth of her mind. Then, I took a photo of her, hoping that I would be able to covey what I felt at my moment of my discovery.
Trust doesn’t come easily to me, especially when it comes to trusting myself. I have made countless errors in judgement, some that have cost me dearly, others that have taught me lessons. No matter how difficult it is for me, I continue to try and trust that not everyone is trying to hurt me, use me, or mislead me. The people who helped me set up this website, taught me how to see the number of unique identities that visit my page on a monthly basis. When I go to my “Control Panel”, it gives me the option of looking at my webpage using 2 different addresses. I can never really remember the difference between the two, but I do recall them telling me that one is much less used than the other. Today, I went to see if anybody was still out there. I’ve been feeling rather mute and not writing as much as I used to, so I wanted to see if folks have lost interest in my little stories. I clicked on one of the links and I was horrified at what I saw. Basically, no one was reading my little stories, but then I thought about it for a moment and realized that simply could not be true. I know for a fact that someone read what I had posted last month, so I clicked on the other address… When the webpage builders first taught me how to see the number of visits my little page was receiving, I was happy that it was more than 5 and delighted to see that there were over 100 people who took the time to read my “therapy”. Over time, the number has grown and I am very happy to report that the number is now closer to 500 people who bless me with the gift of their time. Thank you.
Maybe I should stop being so sad and calm down. Maybe I should trust my intelligence to communicate with the people who show me continued loyalty by reading my little stories. I have a responsibility to them and to myself, to continue to write and possibly get back to work on my idea of doing a podcast…possibly. Maybe it’s time to trust that the Universe hears me and that I’m about to emerge from the blue and lonely section of hell of my own making and become the person I am meant to be. Someone who likes to tell stories that others like to read. Someone, who calls herself Groovy Gail. Someone, who is me.
#thelieswechoosetolivewith
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