I am a bit lost these days. Spinning in place the last few weeks. I know the spinning comes from diving into the past for a certain personal project. The triggers pull the rug out from under me.
And so I freeze, bite my nails, feel exhausted.
Yet at peace… strangely. For I am ready.
I know that the spinning in place also helps the inner critic inside me to rise, causing me to over-think my current book as I prepare a presentation for my agent. I find myself wanting to succumb to self-doubt.
And so I freeze, bite my nails down to the quick, feel exhausted.
Yet still at peace. For I am ready.
And I am taking care to take care. Reminding myself to stand in my successful self. To remember to trust that magic.
Yes- to TRUST.
To just LIVE.
But it’s hard. It is a weighty time. Especially in the fall. The anniversaries come quick this time of year- like Dad’s death October 25, my kitty October 29, Molly’s suicide November 6…
My mother- today.
My mother. My God. 7 years ago- today.
So much to process there. And that is certainly a large part of the personal exploration I am on.
I acknowledge the umbilical cord.
I adore my mom. Miss my mom. Fear my mom. Love my mom. Learned so much from my mom.
As I go further and further back into the past (more on that journey later), I am gathering clues and connecting the dots as to why I am who I am, made the choices I have made, found myself in certain situations, found myself powerless at times, why I am drawn to the therapeutic work I do, why I am drawn to researching crime, why I am drawn to my main character, Molly- why Molly chose me…
So much of it all is intertwined in my relationship with my mom.
Yet at peace. For I am ready.
And I feel it is key for me to try to UNDERSTAND all this– at least to acknowledge and explore, for that may, just maybe, make my spinning stop.
I am so much part of Molly’s story and to write it- I need to know why.
I recall all of a sudden, a childhood dream!
I believe I may have been at age 5 or 6 (before moving to Canada). I know I was very young at the time.
In the dream, Mom and I walk along a gravel road in the middle of a large field. Large empty lots on either side. In the distance- mountains. The lots are empty, unkempt, and overgrown, with knee-high beige dry grass. We are on a single gravel road in the undeveloped giant field, and the road ends as a cul-de sac. There are no buildings. In fact, I don’t see any buildings anywhere. It appears that the lots sit empty, but will be used some time in the future. The centre of the cul-de-sac has a roundabout island, also overgrown with 6-foot tall grasses- some green.
As the dream unfolds, the action loops- we sometimes walk along the right, counterclockwise around the cul-de-sac, or along the left, clockwise… the gravel road and our direction of walking points north.
As we walk around the roundabout island, I am holding my mom’s hand. I am about 5 years old. I feel like I should be scared. We continue to loop- walk down the road again, walk around the roundabout island. I am still holding my mom’s hand.
Finally, we come across a rotting corpse. A human corpse.
The dream is recurring within the dream.
I am aware that it should be a nightmare, but somehow, it isn’t. Instead, I am filled with curiosity- as long as I hold my mom’s hand.
The corpse shows decomposition, maybe several weeks old. Teeth exposed. I am not scared. As long as I hold mom’s hand. I crouch down and look closer…
Was that the first moment I heard the calling to investigate the silent voices of the dead? To peel back the human psyche to search for clues between the lines, to not take any clue for granted? Was the dream an awakening of the curiosity gene I inherited from my mom?
It was my first look into the dark side.
I am still on that path. Spinning.
