We’re in mid-renovation due to a September plumbing disaster at Chez Benedict. One half of our house looks like we’re auditioning for Hoarders. The other half looks a lot like this:
I’ve been through renovations before, yet they never get easier. Well, I guess the one we did with a nine-year-old and a toddler in the house was exceptionally rough. It also may be that I’m older, and relish living without near-strangers being very busy and noisy in my usually peaceful home. Home is a big word, isn’t it? Home is–to my mind–supposed to be a safe place, a place to be yourself, a place to work and play and rest and discuss and learn and be silly or grouchy. It might be many other things to you. If you’re an astrology fan, you know that people born under the sun sign Cancer (the crab) are often described as homebodies. And if we are
dragged from lured from our homes, we have our handy, surrounding shells that not only protect us, but are also likely to contain substantial snacks to share, a book or two, and possibly a pillow and blanket.
Our home is where I do the bulk of my creating. I define a creation as something that has never before existed in the world. It doesn’t have to be a physical thing. It can be a unique feeling, or a relationship (you’ll need at least one co-creator for one of those), or an existential environment (a vibe, if you will). Unfortunately what we create can be negative. That thought makes me sad. Who wants to put negativity into the world? Our world is a beautiful creation that’s rough and scary at times, but we can have at least a little control over what we create. I write that as someone who creates some scary stories, but they’re meant to be pleasurably scary, not damaging. I see my writing as just a small part of my own creativity. Creativity is a way of life, not an end in itself. That’s a concept I want to embrace with more energy, starting now.
If you read last week’s post, you know I’m also trying to make friends with sleep. Our relationship has been rocky, to say the least. For instance, Tuesday night I set reminders to be set up in bed by 10:30. I clocked in at 10:45…but I hadn’t taken time during the day to write my twice-monthly post at the Kill Zone blog. (I wrote about and posted the beginning of a story I wrote for my first writing workshop, waaaaaay back in 1989.) The light went off at 1:00 a.m. Tonight is another night, I guess. Every day is a new chance to…blah, blah, blah. Sometimes a cliché is just too much, isn’t it?! Cliché or no, I’m going to continue to fight my inner teenager’s instincts and do my best to sleep like a grown up.
Next week, I’ll tell you about several books I’ve been reading. Some terrific, some a bit disappointing.
Hey, did I tell you that THE STRANGER INSIDE made a pretty cool 2019 top ten list? I’m chuffed! What has you chuffed today?