In any case, in order to cope with this dreaded routine, I've found myself singing myself awake, usually going with the first thing that comes into my head, my subconscious obviously hungering for any hint of melody that might ease the stiff darkness we are shocked into each morning. (Hey, I may sound like a complainer, and I'll grant you that on this. But even Jude struggles. It takes him several minutes to slide down the stairs in the fetal position, still half asleep himself. Sometimes he eats his Cheerios lying on the table and I'm not going to give him a hard time for that).
It takes me a while, through the haze of breakfast, coats and boots, hats and mittens, to tune into what I am singing. "What a weird thing to be singing," I remember thinking this morning as I poured the milk and belted out the verse about the fire, thanking god it wasn't anywhere near Christmas. Like everyone else, I've moved on. I even planned on taking my skis out of the car this very day. But I guess the song isn't the point; the singing is. Soon enough, Jude perks up and joins me in song; granted neither one of us is happy to be singing or up, but we have little choice at this hour and when in doubt, sing, I say.
The walk, wait, and walk home was uneventful, but surely dry. A bit cold, but what does one expect before sunlight? As normal, I walked home, showered, and came back downstairs to the light. And then I saw it. IT. I swear. Honestly. I'd been singing long before the stuff started puffing around the city this fine spring, March morning. Really I had no idea. Sure, it's not that weird; this is Minnesota and we can expect snow most days and most months, given this brutal winter. Still, a little odd, no?
Admittedly, this sort of weirdness or coincidence or pessimism or whatever you want to call it, isn't new to me. I find I am fairly psychic in general, though sometimes I think it's because I have a fairly routine, predictable life, perhaps to the point where it is supernatural.
What kinds of little weirdnesses have you been experiencing lately? Does this sort of thing happen to you all the time? Ever?
And if you want to shake it up, get in on some weird fun, join me for my upcoming workshop in May: Bring your pal, your guy, your gal, your best friend, your mom, someone you love (or want to love or want to love you (more)) or anyone you want to share an intimate evening of fun, laughter, sweetness, with a sweet little book you'll make together and share for all time and live happily ever after. Register soon! Limited to 6 pairs. $65/pair
DATE NIGHT WRITING
Thursday May 1 6:00-8:30 pm
today's song: "Ease on down, ease on down the ro-ad...." AND... the north star beautiful this morning....
ReplyDeleteRox, I was leaving the Y yesterday morning, and I burst into "Let it Snow" too! Which is amazing because last year I would have throttled anyone who dared to sing that in March. Must be improved meds. I too want it to stop, but at least can see the beauty for a few minutes. Of course, I did change some of the words to a more cynical bent. Thanks for this!
ReplyDeleteno way, Linda! That is wild!! TGFMs!!!
DeleteAnd yes, it was sooo beautiful... isn't it always for the first few minutes? ")
Thank YOU for writing! xoxo
I woke up very early this AM singing a "new poem". Yes, this happens to me, as I do "channel" poems (a "gift" I received a few years ago.) So I go turn on the computer and type in what I am singing, get a few more verses while typing and then I go back to bed. This is "my weird."
ReplyDeleteI knew I'd hear from you, Wynnie... keep it coming. I need all the weird company I can get. And please, post the new poem if you'd like... would love to hear what's on the channeling channel today... :) xoxoxo Hugs, Rox
DeleteJust found this post searching for writing workshops in Mpls. Writing is once again and always calling to me. So, I'm looking for some motivation. I'm also working on finding a focus for my intuition which I've channeled into my children the last few years.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, my weird is the dream I had on Monday night of a gigantic spider web in my bedroom that I kept getting caught in. No sooner than I freed myself from the web, did a new one span the length of the room. Over and over again I kept getting caught in the web to free myself. Then I paused to take in the wonder, beauty, and creativity of the web. At this point, I decided to look for the spider and found a dog-sized tarantula in the corner waiting to spin a new web.
One of those dreams that really have me thinking.
Thanks for your blog and intuitive writing courses. Hope to join your next group!
Hi Erica!
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for writing and so glad to have found each other. I love how you say your channeled your intuition into your children...would love to hear more about that. I struggle with that one as a parent... even though it makes parenting a lot more fun and flow, sometimes I wonder if he is getting enough "practical"! Anyway, would love to write with you. I have an INTUITIVE WRITING class coming up this summer at the St Paul JCC through the Loft Literary Center, as well as a couple monthly INTUITIVE WRITING classes that meet here at The Beach (my home studio). Feel free to call or write!
Wow! That is some serious weird! Dreams are by nature weird (and I know that spider web one well; if it's not webs, it's smog or endless doors, or gravity keeping me stuck), but holy cow, what amazing mindfulness you had in that dream! To pause and take in the beauty. To see the wonder of being just where you are. And then seeing the mother spider... I wonder what you were feeling in that moment. I wonder "who" tarantula is, not that she has to be anyone or anything, but sounds like you are thinking about the meaning... Hard to ignore a dog sized tarantula! Wow.
As a writing exercise, you might want to speak as the dream: write to you from the dream (or part of the dream, say the web or tarantula) who you are, what you are here to communicate, etc.. Could be some wild, weird fun!
Keep me posted and thanks so much for sharing. Hope to write with you soon! Rox