When it rains, it pours.
I’m drowning, alright. The “good stuff” began as an imperceptible drizzle, but it has since become a deluge of happiness. I am deluge-ional. (Sorry, I just couldn’t NOT do that! Good thing my son doesn’t read these posts because his eyes would roll so far back in his head they might disappear. My mom is probably reading this, so I know there will be hysterical hissing and snorting. That thought alone makes me glad I keep sharing these unedited thoughts.)
the torrential downpour of goodness
Actually, the deluge began because I put myself out there. Again. And again. I was getting crispy fried in the sun. I was getting freckled and chapped. Man, was I parched! But, instead of stepping away from discomfort, I dusted myself off and stepped out of my comfort zone a few more times. Sometimes, even when it is against every ounce of common sense I possess, I never give up. My mother says it’s because I’m stubborn, but I prefer to calling it persistent.
Becoming the barnacle
Recently, a friend told me that when he sees what he wants, he latches onto it like a barnacle. I guess that’s one great way of not getting left behind in the dust. It’s also a great way of not drowning in a storm. I’m going to adopt his barnacle analogy and add it to the deluge. Picture it—me, the barnacle who attached herself to the side of Tom Sukanen’s boat. Doesn’t really make all that much sense, but I want people to wonder who the heck that guy was. He was stubborn. He is part of prairie history–that is connection enough. Especially since this is my blog, right?
Okay, Rach. Come back to the story…
(Okay, okay. But first, learn a bit local history here. Like poor old Tom, I live in the land of opportunity. Unlike dear old Tom, I live in the age of the Internet. Although I’ve lost many things in my life, I have not lost what I hold dearest to my heart. I am surrounded by the love of good people.)
My Personal Dust Bowl
Much like Tom Sukanen, I have spent a lot of time spinning out in my personal dust bowl. Unlike him, I’ve reached out and found support in family, friends and mentors. The drizzle of their love helped wash away the scum. The persistence (not stubbornness) has brought opportunities that have scrubbed me clean. The goodness of life is buffing me up–making me ready to shine beneath brilliant prairie skies.
Thank you all for allowing me the space to take risks. Understanding/transforming/transcribing/ transcending the stories—the ship I’ve been hauling around these flatlands—that have shaped me has helped me shed a layer. Much like my little doggies, I’m leaving reminders in the form of tufts—reminders in the form of diptychs and triptychs and lyric essays–and I feel lighter.
Hey, World! Bring on whatever is on the other side of the horizon. I’m more ready than I ever dreamed I would be.
Interested in reading my latest publication?
Click the link below 😉
“Choosing Stones” is one such story.
Did you miss my last post?
Let me make it easy for you 🙂