finding fifty things

ive set myself a new Spring Cleaning and DeCluttering Challenge, based on a new book i'm reading... to find fifty "things" to throw away, give away, or sell before the end of the month.

today i started in the far corner of my bedroom.

so far i've tossed:

1 2000 engagement calendar (i tore out the pictures to use for SoulCollage cards)
1 half-burnt heart shaped candle
1 pair of gloves
6 books (these i'll send to my mother)
1 hopelessly stained sweatshirt

not bad for twenty minutes worth of work. :)

vagina monologues

a bunch of my friends and i went to see The Vagina Monologues performed at uconn health center in farmington. if it seems like an odd place and a strange venue, at least, as i said to one friend - the hospital's full of people who are comfortable saying and hearing the word "vagina."

but to tell you the truth, although i had wanted to see the show in a vague sort of way for quite a while now, the reason i went to see this particular version was at the urging of a ghost.

one of the ladies - a member of one of my writing circles - lost her father last summer. although nearly a year has gone by, my sense is that for this young woman, her father was as much her daddy as mine is to me. at our last gathering, i happened to be sitting next to her, and i could feel his presence quite strongly.

tell her im here, he kept insisting, giving me energetic pokes that feel a little bit like tiny electric shocks delivered directly to the marrow of one's bones.

but i don't do that. not everyone is open to spirits, not everyone welcomes a stranger into their emotional and spiritual lives. plus, the meeting was about writing. it would've been rude to interrupt the group.

you have to get her to ask me, i said silently to sara's daddy.

then the subject of the play came up - in which sara was performing - and i could feel how much he wanted his daughter to know he'd be there, how desperately he himself wanted to be there. i could feel how proud he was of her acting ability, how proud he was of her accomplishments in general, and how much he wanted everyone to appreciate his beautiful, talented, intelligent daughter.

i felt another one of those little pokes and the next thing i knew i was blurting out: "let's all go see the show!"

so seven of us did.

and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.

growing pains

many years ago now, my best friend in all the world and i decided to start a writers' group. we based it on everything we knew and liked (and didn't like) about other writers' organizations, such as RWA. we started as a group of five writers in lorraine's living room, and quickly outgrew her space.

that little writers' group is still going strong, but if you read anything about their history, there will be no mention of either lorraine or myself. (lorraine was expunged, expelled and expurgated by the membership, and i walked out in disgust over the way she was treated by a certain faction within the organization.)

but that's the way it is with groups, i've learned. groups are like people in that they're born, they grow, they change and sometimes, they die.

despite my lack of affiliation with that little writers' group, i'm still proud of what lorraine and i did. a dynamic group, in my opinion, will frequently outgrow and overtake its founders, just like children have a way of taking off in directions their parents never dream possible. a good founder, like a good parent, has to know when to let go. i still read their website every once in awhile, and i always feel a little tickle of pride when i do.

the writers' circles i belong to here are much smaller than the monster that one turned into, but they still suffer from growing pains from time to time. my little passiflora group is hiccuping along from month-to-month, and the wethersfield circle was feeling a few pangs as well.

today our wethersfield circle met, and discussed ways to address our concerns, and i think we've come up with some solutions that will work. it helped tremendously, of course, that i had all that experience from that other little writers' group back in allentown.

and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.