I've Got a Mistress

It's 8:01pm and I have so many ill thoughts running through my head that it feels like a sin to think them, let alone write them down.  My son plays too much and the older he gets the fresher his mouth becomes.  If I was old school I would really put my foot up his behind, but as my mother-in-law likes to say, "you're apart of the new generation of mothers who believe in time-outs and no dessert."  I know she's right but I can't change who I am.  All I wanted to do was make a good dinner and read a few chapters of Mercy Watson to the Rescue, you know the story about the pig who loves buttered toast?  I just found out that he loves the series and made a special trip down Rt. 22 in Friday night traffic to surprise him with the darn thing.  How come that's never enough?  After reading five whole chapters I'm ready for bedtime kisses and cuddles but all I hear is, "more Mommy more."  "Can you read my book now?"  "It's my turn to sit on your lap."  I'm looking at the clock thinking the quicker I get you all in bed, the faster I can get to my little corner of heaven and write.  Words have already begun squirming and I can feel the sentences taking shape in my head. 

"I'm thirsty."  "Can you give me one more kiss."  "You didn't sit on my bed like you usually do."  After ten more good nights the coast to go write seems clear, but just as I'm about to head down the stairs I see navy uniform pants and a pair of pink corduroys mocking me from my bed. The kids clothes need to be ironed and if I don't do it right now I'll regret it, so I plug up the iron.  In the kitchen the griddle, a pot, and three mixing bowls sit in the sink begging to be washed but I ignore the domestic call for the power of my pen.  Stepping over a pile of towels that I was supposed to wash yesterday I pad over to my desk, slip into my writing sweater and pick up the pen.  Ahhh!  Writing feels like a mental massage and as I hear the pen scratch against the page the tension that I feel starts to loosen. 

As it pertains to writing, I feel like I've been in a car accident and am afraid to get back behind the wheel.  Write another novel?  Can I even do it?  And for what, they didn't even want the first one!  But my agent keeps pushing me for an outline of number two and has even pinned me down to a deadline.  I've been resistant because my heart is still hanging, and I just realized that the blog has become my mistress who makes it all better.  In her house I feel safe to roam around, play and explore with no rules, no expectations and no plot to follow.  The novel is my wife and we are having major problems at home.  The last thing I want to do is go deal with her.  Sit with her.  Explore and dig up the pain with her.  We've got a ten year history and have raised characters together, but my mistress and I have only been dating a month.  She allows me to come and go as I please and the freedom is toe curling.  What's a lover to do? 

JK Rowling in her interview with Oprah said something like, "if I could change one thing about my life it would be that my mother wouldn't have died before the success of Harry Potter."  She went on to say, "but if my mother hadn't died then Harry Potter wouldn't have been as successful because my mother's death is on every page."  This quote is incredibly inspiring for me.  My astrologer keeps telling me that I'm walking this path so that I can write my truth.  But it hurts, you know what I mean?  So much effort with no reward, but like JK if I wasn't subjected to heartache then there would be nothing to create, nothing to appreciate, and most importantly no insurmountable challenge to overcome, so that when I look back on my life I can say with pride, "yup, I did that." 

So here's to new beginnings!  Nothing worth having every comes easy, so step out on faith today.  Remember life is a journey, not a destination and the ultimate plan is much bigger.  It has to be. 

Namaste Beautiful.
Love and Light!