Navigating my Today...Finding my Tomorrow

Yes, yes, I know; I don't blog anymore and it is a terrible thing.

I have no idea when the words dried up or why I stopped writing. The muse went away. Funny enough, I never missed it until it simply wasn't there. My dearly departed compulsion to constantly scribble was something I always took for granted. I thought it was as much a part of me as the birthmark on my left hand. That mark has been there for as long as I can remember, and it was how I learned to differentiate between left and right.

Even today, as a grown woman of 30, I look to my birthmark when faced with the question, "left or right?". It serves as my compass, Old Faithful I like to say. So also have literary pursuits been my guiding light. Throughout the cacophony of being a middle child in a family of three, the pandemonium of being 'different' in an adolescence of sheep desperately trying to be as alike as possible, and the mildly controlled panic that marked my journey of making my way through adulthood two cultures removed from my home base, the books and the pen have been my solace.

But something all that managed to change. Somehow I allowed life to get in the way. It started with the writing and then permeated the reading, until slowly but surely, my life was entirely devoid of literary pursuits. At the beginning of 2009, I declared that it would be my anuus mirabilis, and indeed it was. My beautiful nephew was born, I turned a big corner in my career and I fell utterly and irrevocably in love. Because 2009 felt so right, so perfect, it wasn't until the round up in December that I realised that I had only read 7 books the entire year. Seven. And I had written nothing. This from the person who used to pass entire weekends alternating between the library and Barnes & Noble.

I felt bereft, like my identity had sneakily left me when I wasn't paying attention and I immediately decided that 2010 would be different. I made a pact to read more. I figure there is no point in worrying about the writing at the moment when I don't even read enough. If I get back to devouring books, the writing will come naturally like it used to. The reading is my today...the writing is my tomorrow, wish me luck finding my compass.

May's Miracle: As You Are

He says to me "I like you just as you are"
"Just as I am?" I ask not quite sure how to respond.

There is no script for this, I have never heard these words spoken so sincerely so early on the path.

I feel the warmth wash over me like sunshine on a breezy summer's day.

He looks deeply into my eyes and says it shun with firmness and conviction "I like all the parts of you, the little quirks that make such a beautiful whole. I like you just as you are, don't ever change anything."

I smile both inwardly and outwardly, May's miracle; he likes me, just as I am.

April's Miracle: Something New

I felt his arm casually snake its way across my waist
His breathing slowed to an unsteady rhythm
I could feel the tension uncoiling through his body
The anticipation building for what he was about to do
A years worth of pent up longing
Of doubts and uncertainty, hesitation and nerves
Slowly he brought his face towards mine
His eyes held my gaze and we both stood there swaying
The world fell away and the room began to spin
His breath was a whisper upon my face
As his lips touched mine I felt a sharp jolt
Tingling current as his warm kiss drew the breath out of me
Though it lasted 5 seconds, it felt like a year
A precious gift, this first kiss

January's Miracle: +1

The first in a series of miraculous events I will chronicle throughout 2009 to highlight the positive occurrences that have taken place in my life.


On a cold January morning, I received the call. I had been awaiting it for five days, yet somehow it caught me unawares. I heard my mother's voice on the other end of the line, "He is here". Even though I had known for several months that he would be arriving and despite the fact that I wasn't there to witness his grand entrance, her announcement brought tears to my eyes. My family is now +1. In January, our little miracle arrived in the form of my sister's first child, a bouncing baby boy.

My sister and I were born 22 months apart. It has always been very important to me to point out that she isn't quite two years older than I am. 'One year and ten months' I used to scream whenever she or anyone else tried to pull the seniority card. Being that close in age has positive and negative aspects, but the one thing that remains true good or bad is that we take life's turns at roughly the same time. Heading off to school, becoming a teenager, first kiss, first boyfriend - these things have all happened in such a way that I felt more than able to relate. What I am trying to say, and evidently not doing a very good job of, is that I can relate to most things that have happened in her life. The first major step she took that I have yet to was marriage, but somehow that didn't feel alien. Having been in love, I could obviously relate. Not to the actual act itself, but to the idea that it is possible to want to spend the rest of your life with one person.

With this most recent jump however, she is beyond my reach. She carried an entire other person for 9 months and pushed him out into the world. I cannot even begin to fathom the awe she must have felt when he was handed to her. To see herself, my brother-in-law and so many earlier generations of our family all mixed together in the features of one tiny infant is nothing short of astonishing. I have only been able to see him via the harsh medium of mega-pixels, yet somehow I feel the tug on my heart. I had no hand in creating this child, that was between my sister, her husband and God. Yet somehow I feel as though a piece of him belongs to me. I look at a picture of him and I feel as though we are communicating. Silent secrets that only he and I know or understand. My nephew. I am in love and I haven't even met him yet.

My Annus Mirabilis

Is it too late to say Happy New Year? Probably, but when have rules or conventions ever deterred me? Happy New Year all. This time last year I laid out a series of intentions/resolutions that I intended to keep in 2008. Half of the things listed were tangible goals, the other half intangible. I will say that I tried valiantly to keep them, and even succeeded in a few areas - the intangibles were surprisingly easier than the tangibles - but not all. I had considered doing a recap/roundup of my achievements, near misses and complete failures, but decided against it. December would have been the right time to reflect on the year gone by; to do so now is counter-productive.

This year I am taking a new approach. Instead of listing my goals, this year I have a mission statement: 2009 is my annus mirabilis. It is my year of wonders, my year of miracles. It sounds very wishy-washy, but I want to focus on highlighting the good things that come my way in 2009, and so to do that effectively, each month I will highlight one event that I am grateful for. A miracle per month. It could be something small, it could be something very significant, either way, you will be reading about a multitude of things that I am grateful for this year.

January's miracle has already happened and while I haven't found the words to do it justice yet, I am searching when I find them you will read about it. Happy 2009.