seasons change

worn by time
weathered by resistance
i stand still
listen to the silence surround me
wondering among the breezes
wandering among the grasses
turning brown
as the season changes
i sit on the wet
moist earth
watch as the world turns
again from light into dark
i breathe a sigh
of true relief and happiness
for the first time in years

i am ready
for change to begin

weight of acceptance

I know this topic has been done.

I should not have to revisit this again and again, but my mind cannot let it go.

The changes that have happened within and around my body are apparently too much for my mind to comprehend, too much for my mind to accept. I keep coming back to this topic and it would appear there is no end in sight, which, while not entirely a bad thing, I am afraid it is becoming an obsession …

A few days ago I went out and bought myself a new pair of jeans. They are a size smaller than the ones I was currently wearing and I am thrilled to say that they are not the least bit tight. In fact, it’s possible that I could even go down another size, but I am hesitant to go much further than thinking such things, and I am definitely hesitant to truly contemplate such notions. How long will I keep this size? How long did I keep size 16 anyway? How long before my weight finally stabilizes? What size will I be then? … Aah! The wonders of computers allows me to know that in October of last year I was wearing a size 16 and less than a year later I am down another size.

A part of me thinks this is fantastic! To this part of me, I am amazed and fascinated that I have been able to maintain my loss of weight for more than a few weeks. I am also amazed that when my intentions are positive I actually succeed at my personal goals. But, and this is a huge but, it also means that the voices of doubt are being enormously loud lately. Every random comment about body image goes straight to my heart (I wonder if people think that about me? Does she really think I look short and fat? Good thing she didn’t know me when I weighed over 250lbs!) I will internalize these bits and ponder them for the next few hours, and if I am tired enough they will haunt me for the next few weeks. I would like to let these random comments go. I would like them to float across my body, like the wind does on a warm summer day. I am not proud of my ability to internalize everything that is said, but it is something I am aware that happens within the darkest shadows of my mind and I am trying to overcome such gross atrocities to my spirit of progression.

Due to these flagrant voices of doubt I have kept many items of clothing for far too long. There are many items that should have been given away back in October, but I told myself that I needed to hold onto them, and wear a few of them, because we could not afford for me to buy anything. Now that I have discovered that I am smaller still, it seems all the more necessary to rid myself of clothing that is too big. Currently, I have two very large bags, plus an entire tote of clothes that are too big for me. They range in size from 18 to 24, XL and XXL, 36 to 42. I should really let them go, not just a few of them, but anything that is over 14, anything that is over L and anything that is over 34.

And that’s when the voices get really loud, so loud, that my head begins to ache.

What happens if you gain some weight back? How can you possibly be thinking of buying more clothes when your drawers and closet are overflowing? Don’t you need to pay for that car repair? And you’ll need to buy some firewood soon, and what about clothes for the kids? They do tend to have a growth spurt right about now … and how the hell are you going to justify buying another size of clothes when you have no way of knowing how long you’ll be there?

And then there is another voice that says, Tanya, you just went down another size, get rid of everything that is over 34, get rid of everything that is over L, get rid of everything that is over 14. If you want a safety, keep your favorite 16s, keep your favorite XLs, but you don’t need to hold onto everything else. I know you have some favorites. I know there are items of clothing that people have given you, but they are just that, pieces of clothing. You do not need them anymore. They are too old, they are too worn, they are too big, they are no longer something you need to carry with you. It is time to let them go.

my muse

there is something

about this night

that makes me

want to write

it pulls me up

out of bed

places words

in my head

burning bright and bold

wanting to be told

aching and throbbing

within my mind

and are not kind

until i sit naked

before a screen

and fill

this perfect space

with words

that can be seen

that can be read

by someone else

who has been

pulled out of bed

stories

I try not to do this very often, ya know, write about writing.

It’s one of those things that everyone will tell you not to do, but sometimes it is necessary …

Over the past few days I have had the pleasure of the story coming back to me. I am almost ashamed to admit it, but I let it go for a while, worked on something new for the past few months. It took my head out of the place I had been when I began the story and went out towards something new and different, and when I say new and different, I really mean it. I went from a story about love, death and pain with a healthy dose of vamps and weres to a story about life and love conquering all.

It worked for a while, in fact it’s been almost a year since I have had two scenes come to me within such a short span of days, and I am so grateful to have the story back, but I do wonder why this happened … was work getting in the way of writing? Was it my health? My children’s health? Or some other aspect of my day to day life that took away too much energy to even want to think about writing that story? Or was it just that my head was just too full of things that go bump in the night? Was my day to day interactions influenced by how the characters in my head would view events? Did my day to day interactions become skewed to meet the story? … That’s probably bit more in depth than I currently have the time to contemplate, and definitely too much information to share on any blog, but there must be some truth within all of the above, there must be, right? Otherwise why would I be thinking about it, especially in this moment when I have the space to write something for the story!

color by number

"What color is the number 10?"

Is it orange? Or yellow? Perhaps blue or that odd hue of purple that is not quite right unless there is a setting sun falling low on the horizon? There are so many shades it could be, perhaps one day you will share them with me, but until then you sit there in your chair, holding them to your chest, making us guess as to the when, which, where and why. One day you will make me cry in defeat and make me repeat this absurd verse, therefore I will end, with this note to send: beware the days of summer as you sit upon the shores of life for there is no other time when one has the audacity to explore the times of bygone eras and the mistakes made by sages standing too long in the sun, for indeed is not the place for any sage beneath the shade of a tree watching the world pass by?

And so I pause and ask you: what does the color green smell like? What does the fruit see when it is hanging on the limb? What does the voice say about the hour of night? Can you find respite inherent in the folds of a summer day? Can you find a reply to questions that go unheard? Not fit for young ears to sleep until the dawning of time? And what will you tell the future generations of yesterday when they ask: what shade of gray is too white to be seen?

The future is now, the time has come and the days are growing faster than can be heard by those who are willing to listen.