Tag Archives: writing

Nothing Is Everything

Every day, I sit and write. Every day I rack gray matter for some perspective of life to spew. Day in and day out fingers tap keys. It has become a thing now. But today, sigh, I gots nothin’.

It was upsetting, at first. The little panic mice ran haphazardly through my brain yelling about what to do, but I threw my head back and sighed. They would do nothing. Neither would I. Sometimes, nothing is exactly what is right.

Things can come at us faster than we anticipate. We often think because we can do everything all the time we can handle anything. First, we are not capable of doing everything all the time, and those of us who think we can, suck. We are the first to fall out from sheer exhaustion, or nut up in the middle of Kroger when all the almond milk is gone (not speaking from experience or anything). Second, there are moments when nothing is okay. It is better than okay. It is exactly what the moment calls for.

If silence is golden, then nothing is platinum. You cannot be present or grateful or loving or caring or clear or amazing if you are in a constant state of doing the most. Nothing can sting. It can make you feel lost. In a sea of everything, to sit and do nothing feels lazy. It feels as if the whole world you hoist atop your shoulders is going to roll down the hill at any moment. But here is the thing (hold your breath), it won’t. Shut the front door!

The most empowering moments are when I choose to do less than what I know I can do. It sounds backward but hang with me here. I am capable of some amaze ball stuff. I. Am. Great. I kick ass and take names. I handle business first and shed thug tears later. We plays no games. But, when I ease off the gas a bit and move below the standard level of kick-ass, I am refreshed. The act of doing less, of being less, than my daily one hundred is when my spirit speaks the loudest. I can be present. Every minute is like a lifetime when I do nothing. Less is so much more.

Obviously, I wrote something anyway because you are reading it. Hopefully, if you take anything away with you today, take nothing. Take laziness. Take a moment. Bring yourself down to a place below your normal level of wonderful and push for nothing. Allow the day to wrap around you and breathe it all in. Stare out of the car window. Walk slowly. Be present. Time is limited—why waste it by always doing the most? Just sayin’.

~SM

 

The Possible Underneath

We are struggling pretty hard these days. We get paid on Friday morning and by Friday morning we are broke (yea, you read that right). I am barely keeping the car company off my ass, and most nights I spend the wee hours of the morning hoping the loud pickup trucks ambling by are not tow trucks. Rent is paid late, but seriously who has $1500 on the first, ever?  I slowly pass by the almond butters, the salmons and the exotic fruits and veggies for the staples: peanut butter, fish sticks and iceberg lettuce (or frozen brocc). We are in the sweet spot of making too much on paper but making too little in the real world. It can be hard to dream under these circumstances, yes? Ah…but I manage.

Don’t get me wrong, we have joyous moments. We play board games with the kids (when we tie them down) or throw caution to the wind and rent an odd movie or two (The Oath is so random). We forget about bills, empty bank accounts and pickup trucks rolling by for stretches at a time. A slobbery smile from Cookie or an out of place dance move from The Girl or an absurd comment from The Boy peek under the blanket of stress, for a moment. And in the quiet moments, when the house is quiet and the only sound is stillness, I dream.

Possibility is a constant. It never fades. It is always there to be rummaged through. It is why I lose myself in the stillness and dream. I dream of writing. I dream of creating a space all my own. I dream of vacations. I dream of being better than Sir King. I dream of my children rolling their eyes at the mention of my books from a stranger/classmate/teacher. I dream of big oaks and a conversation with Madam O. I dream about me, the little green sprout, pushing through the cold, uncomfortable blanket of snow.

It is not impossible. Nothing is impossible. It feels like it. My God does it feel like it, but underneath all of this heavy, there is something…possible. No, this isn’t comfy. It affects the sight and the mind. It makes things appear so much different than it is making it hard to navigate. It is easy to get lost when everything is covered. But the minuscule, lush green beacon of light poking through the blinding white is a reminder that everything is possible….I just have to hang on and dig a little deeper. I have to rummage through the possible and grab something, anything, and try it on for size. There is nothing to lose but opportunities not seized.

~SM

Stand By

Over the last few days (ever since the book episode), I have been thinking how I can (a) better serve my growth journey over these next 18 months and (b) how I can be of service to others as they grow. Being Sadie May was never really about anyone or anything outside of…well…Sadie. It started out as a therapy practice, thanks to a suggestion from a friend. But, if I haven’t learned anything but this–I have learned that people/places/things/ideas evolve. So, in the spirit of being an ever-changing-human with the ability adapt to moving ideas, I am going to take a few days, get myself prepared, take the road map I have tucked away in my office and navigate this journey completely and totally out loud.  Oh boy. This is gonna be fun 🙂

~SM