a midweek crisis

Uploaded on January 13, 2010

by Helen Aldous

I am having one of those days where everything seems a little pointless.  Or boring, to be more exact.  I would much rather be sewing or crocheting or knitting or dancing or singing or yoga-ing or writing...anything rather than sitting in a poorly ventilated office staring at a computer screen for eight hours.  I am feeling a little teenage in my desire to shout out, "what's the point?!"

Of course I know what the point is.  I'm trying to swing some Yogic perspective and tell myself that it's my Dharma.  I'm dreaming about a holiday and I know that this is how I get to have one.  I know.  I know.   Yet I still feel like throwing a tantie today.  I.  just.  don't.  wanna.

My one major dream has always been to become a writer.  Not an office dweller.  I am not a writer now but I still think I could be one.

Can't I?

P.S  I don't think my life is halfway through, by the way!  Hopefully more like quarter way through :)

Some creative writing fun

It was without warning and with little effort that she thought suddenly of her grandmother.  Only moments before she had been immersed in random, happily meaningless thoughts.  What's for dinner tonight?  How cute is this skirt I am wearing?  Should I be walking faster than this?  It hit so suddenly, the wave of nostalgia, of memory.  That is the very nature of those things.  All it takes is something as insignificant as a bunch of daffodils at a passing florist and WHAM - she is back there!  Back in a moment that occurred so long ago and so far from this place that it's like being slammed against a wall.  She can smell eucalyptus.  She can hear their muffled voices again.  Her breath catches for a moment.  Her heart quickens as she is pulled through herself, back to the past.  She is caught off guard; completely unprepared for the emotion that pulses through her.  She lets out a moan.

"Are you okay?" 

She blinks her eyes and she has returned to the side walk.  To the florist.  To the stranger that is looking at her with such concern she feels herself flush.  She nods.  Blinks again.  She pushes the memory back into the deepest part of her body and returns to her thoughts of dinner.