between the broken places

I’ve been waiting for “Someday” – But I wait no more because TODAY is my “Someday” and it’s time to get started!

I’ve ignored blogging lately. It’s not that I haven’t been thinking about blogging, but I’ve been so busy with surgery, recovery and other family and business stuff that blogging has become an ongoing, terse conversation between my writer voice and my business voice. In the background the 5 year old me dances alone the creative corner of my mind waiting for the grown up me to show up. So the conversation in my head continues as my dance of indecision becomes a whirling dervish of ideas without actions. It sort of reminds me of my dog chasing her tail; round and round she goes, never catching up, frustrated until she just gives up.

I spend a lot of time THINKING about what to post each day. Random ideas and conversations swirl in my brain, begging for my attention – still I don’t write. I busy myself with reading other peoples blogs while ignoring mine. It’s hard for me to even understand my stand offishness because I love blogging – it is one of my favorite creative outlets.

Then as if hit in the head with my Fairy Godmother’s wand (of course, I have a Fairy Godmother) – I realized!

This is why I’ve become a Life Coach – I am not the only one stuck dancing in my head.

The fact is, the reason I haven’t been dipping into my creative mojo is because it simply isn’t my priority right now. I want it to be. I’ve asked myself, “Why am I keeping all this information and these witty comments to myself?” I’m a Life Coach, these are the questions I should be posing to my clients but instead my coach is asking me what I’m afraid of.

“What if I blog out all I have to say? What will I put in my book?”

My coach, Bonnie, looks at me from across the room one eyebrow raised, “Really, you think you could blog away everything you know?”

“Of course not but…”

“Oy with the buts! Take a good look at your actions. You’re simply not doing it. You’ve made other things a priority and left out your favorite activity. Back to writing, Cinderella – it’s what you do.”

She’s right and I know it, so once AgAiN I am promising myself that I will write a pithy blog at least 3 times a week. I’ve got lots to say – especially now that I’m a Coach.

So, I respectfully request the honor of your presence as we board the bus to Bipolarland ~ pack a lunch, this could be a long ride.

Because it’s never too late to be who you were meant to be.

At the age of 44 (45 is next month, thank you) I have found myself wondering the age old question, “Is this all there is?” I know that there can always be more to life, that it’s just a matter of going out and getting it. But it seems I typically have just enough energy for what I’ve got and nothing more. Well, I want more.

My mother used to tell me that I never finished anything I started. That’s true most of the time – so maybe I’m just trying to prove something. On the other hand, if it’s the journey that is important am I supposed to finish? Ok, yes, I know I am but in my own defense most of my hair-brained schemes have begun to the wild beating of my manic drums. However, this scheme, idea, true calling has not been forged in the fires of mania. This dream has been stirred, added to and simmered in my life’s cauldron for many years; each experience bringing new spice to the elixir that makes up the delicious concoction of me.
Bipolar Disorder is but one ingredient in the mixture. I have survived emotional and physical abuse, childhood molestation and rape at the age of 20. My physical ailments include obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol and high triglycerides. I have taken up to 26 pills a day to treat these maladies; spent endless hours and countless dollars in the effort to make myself “normal”. Thank God, “normal” continues to elude me.

My family influences include not knowing the truth of my birth until I was 28 (I’m the product of a one-night stand) thus growing up with an emotionally repressed mother and a step-father who took to causing me pain to hurt her. I married young and subsequently divorced eight years later. I then explored new territory by becoming a non-custodial mother to my two young daughters. I am the mother, sister, daughter and granddaughter of those who have survived and succumbed to cancer. And still I go on.

So why a Blog? Can’t you tell? I’ve got lots to say and the story is boiling over to be told.