Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 7, 2019

365 days: day 219... cadence helps my heart (part 1)


As I ran today I looked down at my legs ... 
strong , moving forward , smooth ..... 
a lil buzz ran through my body, a shiver , a smile .... 
I stopped .   
I stood looking first at my thighs 
then towards the mountains .... 
breathing  
breathing .... 
in out .    
Slow.   
Breathe  slow .   
Fill up , let it go
 .... a flash memory and another twinge....
I stretched and looked around .... 
looked at my phone . 
nothing.  
I rubbed my palms down my thighs
Keep running, it will stop

Ch ..... ch......ch.... 
the sound of the gravel crunching as I run in almost perfect cadence to the metronome 
...180 .... 
my feet remember the stride as my mind drifts again ....

Your hand reaching with ease to the passenger side and arriving perfectly on my thigh .   
Warmth and slight heaviness,
a gentle squeeze and movement that was so comfortable I didn’t flinch .   
I looked down at that hand, as you drove to nowhere with the other.... 
not looking at me or changing expression. 
a gesture that now has me unsteady within its memory.
I traced your fingers along the top, felt the soft spot between the thumb and finger,
touched your ring.
your hand moving to hold mine,
perfectly fitting.

cadence....cadence....look out, lean forward...
for a mile the breath comes uneven then starts to find it's place with the legs and heart.
mind begins to wander again.
keep running towards the horizon...
walking quietly side by side, not speaking, unsure
your hand grazes my back with a protective like move as the door opens.
the back of our hands graze each other with closeness and I feel your finger latch lightly around mine. 
weakness....don't move away...

faster I run and break cadence, fuck it, running to a visual point in the distance.
running as fast as I can telling my brain to not stop running until I am there.
I run faster and faster in order to be done.
done
I can't breathe 

I stop and bend over, holding my side...
the tears come, hot and dry quickly in the heat.
my heart heaves with lack of breath
strong legs,
keep moving forward.
I can't 
breathe
my brain throwing thoughts left and right
why has this happened 
it's ok
you are ok

I look at my phone again.
nothing
again
except a running timer saying to move.
telling me to move
come on
do something

I start to head back
tears burning my eyes.
that feeling
a feeling my touch can't fix.
a feeling that comes so often now I want to scream

my stride has shortened and my cadence is off
I walk and my breathing is uneven 
walk, breathe, walk, breathe
hands on my waist
I squeeze 
feeling 
what you
felt
mind wanders
pull me towards you
pushed back against the car
hands lifting me up and wrapping around me
gently sitting me onto the seat of the car.
breathe, breathe, breathe 

looking at the mountains 
I know life is beautiful
life is complicated
but it is also 
often
tragically perfect
undeniably
perfect




write ya later,
xo,
m






ps I write letters, I write so many letters and they sit in a folder waiting to either destroy me or destroy someone else.
the heart is a lonely hunter some may say, 
but my heart is a beautiful writer





















Thursday, January 31, 2019

clarification about this Blog anything that appears real is not

I would like to clarify this blog.
This is my personal space to write creatively, occasionally write real life scenarios, update with some humor posts and above all, allow people I have never met to feel free to email me and say,
"hey, thanks, that helped" or "My gosh, I would have never done that!"

So now for the clarification.
When I started this blog over 10 years ago it was a place to post my pictures from Flikr.  "Life in 365"
Those were real posts.  That was actually pictures of my life.
These posts moved on to daily life little shorts: sewing, cooking, DIY and little kid funny stuff.
At that point I realized I had a bit of love for writing humor and making people laugh.  Much at my own expense.

So writing was what I did....It gave me a time and place to sit and pull things out and make stories which are relatable or stories which would have made for a better outcome.
This blog is a creative writing space. I use some truths, and blend them into small vignettes with a ton of creative license.  While getting my BSN I did take a writing class. It opened up a new writing style for me., or shall I say a different one.  we would write sharp, quick writings  based on things which touched our lives one way or another, then we learned to turn those into short stories people may want to read....and keep coming back to read to see what happens.  Similar to chapters in a book. Fictional Memoirs is a loose term we used

If you have been reading this blog for the entire time, and I have a few friends who have.. you would have seen the break in writing and then the changed style with a similar story background when I returned. "life, relationships, family".  I had moved from humor writing to a diary of life issues I felt people could relate to.  These vignettes (and why I am having to describe my writings to anyone,I'm not sure) came from pieces of funny or dramatic past adventures and changed around to spark interest. If you were part of my past you may see some similarities...I never use names in these writings because most are only true by a hair.

Now....If you are part of my everyday life....the people I drink beer with, the people I ride with the people I go bowling with...the people IN MY REAL IMMEDIATE LIFE... you will know when it is a real post.  I will give you some hints.  It will NOT reference to a time long ago. It will usually have a real picture of present day me, such as: in running clothes, drinking a smoothie, smiling.  Or it will start by saying TODAY:  blah blah.....not "let me tell you a story, or a memory".

The writings that are heartbroken may have a reference to a certain time or feeling....but a feeling is not always a thing that people need to agree on.  These posts from "pasts" are juiced up writings so that people who read them can relate and feel better about their current situation, sometimes that goes for me too. Writing about family has always been a slippery slope, because they can see similarities and get upset that I write about it. "you are spreading lies" , "that is not how it happened"
Of course it is not how it happened.
 Do you really think my parents were swingers? Do you really think my mom could predict the future on her deathbed?  I was not even there when my mom passed, so if you know me...You would know this was a story....a story that is interesting and I wrote it.

This goes for relationships and past loves...If you are pissed or moved by one of my posts and it bothered you, that is unfortunate. If you are a past relationship of mine from many years ago, you better not be offended because when you leave, I write...and why are you here anyways ?   I definitely use creative license on those because the realities are too painful. If you were a fond memory you will be named or initialed and you will know.

This is not about your story, unless I personally name you, by name, in the writing....this is not about you. (disclaimer: there is one person I occasionally write about, and my kids, and they know when it is them....but I do not use names and occasionally those have been found to be too much and have been removed)

This is my space, I am grateful if it moves you in one way or another....but do not take anything on this blog too seriously UNLESS you are able to know the situation present day and are a close friend, as stated earlier, you will know the truth from fiction.
My writing brings my clarity and inner laughter and helps with some inner peace and sadness and I have removed many of the writings into draft mode ....I will pick and choose the ones to put back, but I am not going to stop writing....even if you don't like it.  it is like the TV...turn it off.

xo
write ya later
this is a fictional space....
do not be so touchy
m




PS.
remember, its not always about you.
PSS.
it's about me.  and my writing.