"A Writer's Thoughts" - has moved to the 'Blog' section up at the top.
"A Writer's Thoughts"
(- Has been moved to the BLOG section -)
Click on "Blog" up above in the menu section.
Random writings for the week. A feeling, emotion, information shared or just a thought. Points of view within different writing styles. Come in. Come and read... and see if any speak to you.
"Let go... to save your sanity."
This is something I have had to do this week. So, I thought this is the perfect time to fully introduce myself.
Aloha! Ciao! Bonjour! Hallo! Hola! Hello! My name is Heather and I am a 46 year old single mother of two. Some people say I don't look my age and I do believe I don't act my age... which I suppose is irrelevant today. I have two older brothers, two sister in-laws, two nephews, three nieces and four god-children.
Let's start at the beginning, shall we?
Early years, I was raised in church in Alaska, from the young and impressionable age of five. Extremely shy, but also, angry about said shyness. Just to be more confusing, I was tremendously opinionated to those that really knew me. I wrote stories as squiggle marks on little pieces of paper for my mom while sitting in the second to front church pew. One of my first stories I remember writing, with actual words, was about a unicorn in the forest. Oh my goodness was I into unicorns!
Years dripped by like an IV. I had friends that came and went with the wind. My parents moved the family back and forth from Alaska to Hawai'i four times from ages 12-15, almost 16. That was quite the internal cluster for an extremely shy introvert.
Teenager! Not much changed other than my anger growing at not fitting in and so I forced myself into modeling to try and change. It didn't work. I did however, make bad choices in men which spilled over into adulthood.
After high school, I worked for an airlines, which allotted me a trip with my mom on a mother's day to Puerto Vallarta. That's still one of the best vacations I have ever had.
Back in Hawai'i at age 23, I was planning on moving here by myself. But my parents moved to Kona first. It was actually nice to not be here alone.
My parents divorced and I continued with my bad choices in men. My mom and I were involved with a local modeling agency and I was hired to be in a German music video. It was by far my biggest modeling accomplishment (you can find it on youtube: "sash la primavera" -hint- I'm the one in yellow :).
The modeling career was short lived, not only because I am literally short, but at 27 I saw cellulite on my butt. I found out soon after, I was pregnant.
To the flipping moon! I was thrilled to have my baby girl. At age eighteen, I was told by a "specialist", it would be near impossible for me to have children. Well, I had my baby boy three years after my daughter.
Unfortunate (stupid) choices. (I call it how it is... especially when it's about myself.) I stayed with my children's father for 17 years. I will just say, divorcing him was the best decision I've ever made... I just wish I had made it sooner. So much wasted time. Time equals life.
With a new look on my new life with my two little miracles, I have discovered I love goals, moving forward and learning. My daughter is an unbelievable and compassionate person. My son is so full of energy and happiness. Even with his special need's frustrations I know he feels, he makes everyone that meets him, smile and love life a little more.
I have figured out how to balance my own self care and raise happy children. For me, the balance is extremely important. I have traveled by myself to southern Italy three times, Paris France once and Quebec City four times and I have just gotten started.
The goal. To help my daughter on her latest journey to adulthood and for me to stop working as a night auditor. Instead, I hope to work remotely one day soon. This way I can travel with my son and show him the world I have fallen in love with.
I started Stories Imagined as a home for my book and the books I intend to release from my mind as quickly as I possibly can. The stories I write will all have a lot of truth, but still mixed with fiction. I hope you all will enjoy reading them. Please trust that you can do anything you set your mind to. If I can do it... anyone can! Really, really.
One last thing, if you have any questions or comments about any of these "writer's thoughts", please feel free to send an email at the bottom.
Okay! That's it until next Friday.
Almost daily I hear someone say, "It was meant to be". Or, "It all happens for a reason".
I am not completely sold on this idea of the cosmos controlling every step I take.
Now, don't get me wrong, growing up in a Pentecostal household, I obviously can't help but believe in a higher power. But that is a deeper conversation we can have over coffee one day.
Some things I do contribute to 'the cosmos', but perhaps I use this as an excuse. There has to be some thought process, some contemplation of yes or no before you make a decision.
Let's say, for instance, there is a little girl and a little boy. At ages 6 or 7 they are friends. Innocent and real first feelings of like and want are immediate but nothing transpires.
Life moves forward. The boy and girl lose track of each other. They have loves, families, their own children they respectively nurture and watch grow. The girl and boy think of each other from time to time, but those thoughts are always interrupted by the lives they are living.
One day, their paths again cross. How unbelievably wonderful they feel to have an undeniable connection from the childhood they both remember. But one is busy in their life and the other is free. Again, to remain apart.
Now, would you say that it is the cosmos or higher power at work? If they do not act on the moment, will they meet again? Are they doomed to always wonder? To keep slipping through each other's lives like fog through their fingers?
Perhaps, there are only so many times Gaia will intervene.
A fleeting moment of hope... a second of maybe... and it is ripped away again.
One day would they say, "That was suppose to happen"... "It was meant to be"?
But yet, the pull is so strong.
Is it the want of the mind that brings them at the brink of together? Or, is it the something else that is bigger than them both?
One of the endless wonders of this life.
I think, actually, I am beginning to understand.
It is so much easier to just say, "It all happens for a reason".
(...the continuation of last week's post. If you're just joining, read last week first.)
Of the wine I'm drinking? How does he know which wine I'm drinking?
I sit back down with a curious look. The handsome new man leans slightly over the table and sets one of the glasses in front of me. He looks into my eyes and raises an eyebrow.
"May I join you?"
I think for a quick second and decide that I'm curious about this... about him. "Si. Yes, you may join me."
He sets his glass of wine down, pulls out the other chair, and slides into it.
I look into his face, reach over, and switch his glass with mine.
"I'm sure you understand," I say with a sly smile.
With a smile of his own, he nods, takes the glass I slid in front of him and has a sip.
"This is a nice Cabernet," he says looking at me with a side smile. "I asked the bartender what you were drinking."
"Grazie, you knew I was wondering."
"Yes. I know it was a bit forward of me, but I didn't want to introduce myself emptyhanded." Handsome man reaches over the middle of the table. "I am Matteo."
I reach out and he gently squeezes my hand in his. It's warm and strong, and makes me feel small tingles in my stomach. I wasn't expecting this.
"Ciao." I smile big. "It's very nice to meet you Matteo. My name is Mila. I am here visiting from Hawai'i."
He releases my hand and we easily continue the next hour with another glass of wine and what turns into deep conversation.
"I do not spend my time with younger men because it's my fault," I say and take a drink. "It is out of default."
Matteo laughs. "What do you mean, default?"
I smile at his handsome face. "These are the men who fall into my lap... sometimes literally. I have tried to see men my age, but the ones I have met, let themselves go. I have had two children and one was cut out of me. I feel, if I can work on keeping myself looking decent, then a man has no excuse. It's that, or they are no fun. No spontaneity."
I don't know why I feel the need to explain all of this to him, but I just keep going.
"The younger men are all about fun and excitement. Why would I want to stay bored?" I take a small drink. "And if the men my age do take care of themselves, they instead are chasing after the younger women. I either compromise what will make me happy and enjoy life with a man my age, or I enjoy the company of younger men. Default."
"I understand," Matteo says. "What is your age if I may ask?"
"I am 43."
"I am 40," he says with a smile and takes a sip of wine.
Okay, I have to say, he is very handsome and fit.
"You then, are an anomaly in my travels," I say with a smile.
"Why were you sitting here alone tonight?" he asks.
"Yes, of course."
"I am waiting on a man. A younger man."
"Why would he have such a beautiful woman waiting for so long?"
Immediately, I'm embarrassed by his question. I cannot tell him the man I am waiting for will never be out in public with me. He has said I am too old to be seen with. It doesn't even matter that I don't look 43, but, that he has a reputation to uphold. I hear it in my head now, how completely shitty that sounds... and is.
"Matteo," I say with a sudden urgency building inside. "It was quite lovely meeting you tonight. I am so happy you came over and spent this time talking with me." I take the last sip of my wine and grab my purse and phone off of the table. "But, if you will excuse me, I now realize... I need to go."
Matteo's face drops to confusion and maybe even disappointment as I scoot my chair back and stand.
"O-oh, okay yes. Not a problem. It was wonderful to meet you bella Mila. You will get home okay?"
He stands and gives me a kiss on each cheek as I assure him I will be just fine. Yes. Better than ever actually. It took this stranger's one question to make me realize my worth.
"Grazie Matteo. More than you know, thank you for tonight. And... you are an extremely handsome man." I smile, wink, turn, and walk out.
(today will be a rough draft. A small part of the book I'm currently working on. 'Doing It the Right Way')
The lights are dimmed in this perfect little bar. It's 18:26 here in Napoli and I am, again, waiting on a man. It's not a big deal, since he worked today. But I know he gets off of work every day at 17:00.
I am on my second glass of Cabernet. The live band will be playing, hopefully, long after I leave to meet with Francesco. My phone lights up and I quickly look down at it with high hopes. It's not him. My girlfriend from home is asking how my night is going. I open my phone then close it again. I can't answer her right now. I'm trying my best to be calm and not let the building irritation of questions in my head take over my mood.
"Relax, Mila," I mutter and take another sip of my wine.
Sitting at a little wooden table in a sexy, short, black and white dress that shows off my legs, plunges down in front to show off my twin assets and wearing black, strappy heels, I can see the whole room. The long bar far in front of me, the entry is just to the right, and on my left is the band with a few couples dancing in front of them. The rest of the medium size room has perfectly spaced, wooden tables. Like the one I am sitting at. The bar and all of the tables are full with people. Looks like a good night for this place. At least it's a good night for someone.
I shake the negative thought from the front of my mind and notice I'm on my last sip. One more glass and I will message Francesco.
My chair makes a dull squeak as I push back to stand up.
"Buonasera. Come stai?"
I stop halfway through standing. I cut my eyes up to see a handsome Italian man in front of my table with a glass of wine in each hand.
"Buonasera," I reply. "Bene, grazie."
He smiles and then says so much in Italian that I can't even grasp one word I might, possibly, understand.
A huge embarrassed smile takes over my face. "I am sorry. I don't know Italian. That was one of the few things I understand."
"No problem. You just look like you are from here. I know English very well." He smiles and motions one of the glasses towards my chair. "Please, sit. I have brought you a fresh glass of the wine you are drinking."
(I will stop here and finish this scene with next Friday's post:)
She sits on the newly painted, white wooden bench at the edge of a quaint little pond. Above, a weeping willow's delicate branches gently blow in the breeze. Three baby ducks fall in line behind their mother. Each one, taking their turn into the water.
The woman watches silently. Sitting properly straight against the back of the bench, her right knee crossed over her left; her hands relaxed in her lap.
The ducks remind her of herself, minus one of the ducklings. She has only two children.
There's no doubt in her mind that she finally made the right decision for her life. Her one life. Here and now, no matter your beliefs, they all have only one time around for right here... and right now.
The only regret she has was waiting so long. Maybe, if she had done it in her thirties, or dare she dream, to have been smarter in her twenties.
But, no. She would have only had one duckling of her own. Yes, it would have been perfect in her thirties.
The woman is starting to internally feel her age. Nearing her dreaded fifties, people tell her it's all in the mind. She doesn't even look her age.
Unavoidably, this has created a paradox. She is able to enjoy the company of many exciting younger men, but it is a fleeting situation. The only consolation she tells herself is - 'at least I helped make them better for the woman they do keep'.
She leans forward, extends her right arm and tosses a few seeds into the water. She watches as the mother duck shows her babies to eat.
Sitting back again, she muses that the 'fish in the sea' have become more like this pond. Are there even fish in a pond? Or only guppies?
A passerby looks curiously at the woman on the bench as she lets out a little laugh from the thought.
Not even a river or a stream, huh? She thinks.
At least she did it. Better later than never. She wonders how many people stay in an unhappy marriage. How many men and women choose to waste their one life on the judgement of others. Maybe it's like her. They make a vow to stay with this person at the tender age of twenty-three.
But, my god, she smirk's to herself; most human's frontal lobe, the one that makes the logical decisions, doesn't completely form until 30, or even after.
She has been traveling since she divorced. She knows now, who exactly she is and for the first time, she loves her. No unwanted compromise, no yelling, no eggshells to walk on.
Yes, there are times she is lonely. She may even cry in the dark, but then she can smile again in the light. A small space for tears is a world superior than a life time of sadness.
"Mom!" A beautiful girl, almost twenty, waves towards the woman on the bench. "We're ready whenever you are."
The woman smiles big and waves back at the girl and the tall, teenage boy walking beside her.
At least... at the very least she knows her children have learned from her mistakes. But only because she fixed them.
An immediate, unexpected attraction you cannot deny.
The undefined pull that is as strong as the moon is to the tides.
Why can I not stop thinking about him?
One meeting, just one, and my mind was scrambled.
Scrambling. Falling in all directions to grasp at an answer.
What is it about him?
Why do I feel like I'm floating and sinking at the same time?
A message, a silent video... makes my face light, and smile.
Any part of a complex day melts away and becomes anew. Refreshed from knowing he's thinking of me... still.
The innocence, want, and pure joy at seeing his face.
The look in his eyes. It divulges a universe more than any actual words could ever convey.
But hearing his voice. Deep and concise.
Stimulating the mind to imagine places my body yearns to follow.
Is now gone.
The unanswered questions of change.
Euphoria becomes emptiness.
Fighting the overstimulating urge to ask... why?
Though why never really matters.
All that matters is that feeling is gone.
Vanished like it never was.
I miss it.
But hope. Hope is what I live on and is the oasis of promise.
Promise of that feeling being felt again.
Somewhere, someday... with someone... who will stay.
I read a post recently that said something along the lines of: Stop saying you are finding yourself. You are you and have not been lost.
Well, that was the gist of it.
I have found myself contemplating that thought often. It seems to run as static in the back of my mind, making it's way to the front more often than it probably should.
I don't agree, to be quite honest. I do, however, believe it could be true for some people. But, if you are like me, with so much time spent on the wrong person, with gigantic life changes happening for years, and the jumbled mess of being told, by basically everyone, how to think, behave, what to say when, etc.. etc.. I feel that yes, I was lost and had to find myself.
With everything I have learned and lived over a decade and more, I have changed from who I used to be. But that's a good thing. We are supposed to change. We are supposed to grow. But then, who am I now?
For the past five years I have made life an adventure. I force myself out of my comfort zone, meet people from around the world and learn how to at least say "hello" in their language. I listen to every type of music, fly to other parts of the world, find out everything that I may enjoy physically - because why not? How will I know if I don't try?
These are my thoughts when I am writing. "What do I want to learn?" "Who do I want to be?" "What can I share?"
I will tell you what I have learned so far; every experience is a good experience, even when it seems like it's not... just try not to linger.