Catch Up

There is so much to write and yet I can not figure out how to get it all out. Words are usually so easy for me. Poetry is my favorite way to explore my world, to sculpt and paint. Yet my poems are also sacred to me because they contain so much of my own soul and thus I rarely let anyone read them. Strange that I would create something but not share it. Prose is not as much fun for me because there is less lyric to it, less bending and curving of the words and more restraint on how the art can be formed. Because it is more restrained, it has less of myself in it and thus I am more willing to share it. This type of random writing about my life would seem most personal and yet it is the easiest for me to share. However, it is also the least skilled of my writing and the least artistic. When writing in other ways I can bend words and find a rhythm and harmony but when just writing free about my own life the flow and music is difficult to discern. That is why I keep this mostly as a record for myself. My journal writing is not an art for me. It is simple, it is plain, and often I struggle to find the words where in other writing they would fall so easly and curve perfectly beneath my fingers.
This past month has been one of chaos, feigned ignorance, and tremendous growth. Summer school ended as chaotically as it began and we had a bumper crop of chicken pox, thrush, pink eye, and vomit. My sandal will never be the same. Yet we also had sweet children who worked hard, stole hearts, and had fun. My two day tour of DC was painful (never wear new shoes when walking in a city - I am indeed that stupid and earned the blisters to prove it), hot (over 100 degrees) and intriguing. I can not wait for another opportunity to return so I can explore more museums and history. Being here in Michigan has been precious. My Little Bit is growing up far too fast, my family is able to see just how different I am after this year of trial and forging, and I have exploded into a self I never imagined. I have been living with a desire to not miss a moment that has formed inside my soul and I do not want to lose that passion because I have discovered how much joy can come from simple things and how much you can get from an ordinary day. I also claimed my body as my own, as more than damaged goods and broken parts, and has the most gorgeous image tattooed onto the back of my shoulder. This runs contrary to the "little miss perfect" image that I have worn all of my life. :) It is also most likely in violation to every rule ever given to me by every doctor I have ever seen but I am now 26 years old and I am tired of living in fear of my own body. I needed to claim it as mine, to take back some control over it, and risks are a part of really being alive. I love it and would nto change my decision. I also cut my hair significantly so that my little ones can stop using it as a convenient pull toy when I teach. I have been ignoring the fact that my lumps and bumps are steadily getting bigger and my ribs hurt more frequently. I will deal with it once school has started and I can get in to one of the new doctors my rheumatologist recommended. Unfortunately the scans were not worth crap and so we are stuck back at the beginning with the knowledge that there is something there but unsure what they are or why they are there. So I ignore them and live in the moment.
Right now it is raining outside, a perfect soft and steady summer rain. It has been a long time since it has rained like this and I am ready to go outside and enjoy it. However, I most definitely will not be singing in the rain - I am not so delusional as to think I can hit a single note!