Childhood

For reasons unknown to me, my parents only brew pots of coffee everyday in the winter. During any other time of the year they use the Keurig. I obviously prefer a pot to a k-cup so when winter break rolls around it's a treat for me to come home to pot of Starbucks Christmas Blend. And if anyone says to me "K-cup is just a smaller brewed pot!" I will probably throw my foaming machine at their face. Coffee blasphemy is not permitted in my house... Unless it comes from one of parents... which it usually does.
Christmas time at my house feels like Santa's Workshop.  My mom is Santa, my dad is Rudolph and I'm the Elf that occasionally contributes to the festivities but mostly stays up 'til 2:00 a.m. catching up on Once Upon A Time. And between episodes I've noticed Christmas is pretty much the closest you get to being a kid again. (Christmas and Disney cartoons.)The closer it gets to the 25th the easier it is to reminisce on your childhood innocence. And sometimes you can almost grasp it again... But then a notification for your Instagram picture pops up and the moment is gone.
The other day I was thinking about when I would get scared at night and go sleep with my parents. As a child there were many occurrences of me sleepwalking, sleeping screaming, sleeping throwing stuffed animals and maybe sleep kung-fu. It's amazing that my parents let me sleep with them as long as they did, I would often whack, kick and almost push them off the bed in my sleep. Eventually they did put my on the floor when I had bad dreams. And then I got too old to be sleeping with my parents. I felt embarrassed waking them up to confession that I was afraid of my own room, afraid of the shadows and the noises and the dreams. I remember climbing out of bed as quiet as a thief... sneaking down the hall with my pillow and blanket in tow. I would curl up on the floor at the end of their bed and wake up when my mom would step on me on her way to the bathroom. Startled at the site of a small person on her floor, but understanding of my fears she would let me stay there.
You know, there are many ways to lose your innocence, physical, emotional, mental, and it's a sad thing. It is an inevitable tragedy.
But there are also victories we have as kids, and I don't think we should forget those.
When I was eight I watched a movie with my family that my parents knew would scare me. They were reluctant to let me watch it with them but I convinced them that I would be okay. That night images haunted me. I was scared. I wanted to go crawl to foot of their bed where it was safe. But something happened that night that I think changed me forever.
I stayed in my bed.
I stayed and eventually fell asleep.
For the first time, I chose to face my fear. And I found something out that night: I liked being brave. Growing up my small group of friends saw me as the brave one. I would go in the dark rooms first. I would investigate the ghostlike sounds during sleepovers. I would not go to my parents when I had a bad dream but rather comfort myself back to sleep. And it started that night.
It was an important time in my development.
We all have those. I think it's helpful to look back and figure what formed you in to who are. I learned what bravery was because I wanted to prove to my family that I wasn't a scared little kid. And the truth is, after that night I did sleep in my parents room when I watched Batman Begins for the first time because ten-year-old me could not handle the Scarecrow on my own. But the point wasn't that I was impossible to scare, the point was that somewhere in me I had the ability to brave.
So during this Christmas time as you remember being kid, think about the most prominent memories you have and see what they have to say about your character. When did you learn how to be brave or loyal or honest or kind?
I would say food for thought but we both know this is more of a coffee thing.
Coffee for thought.

Taking a step back

I don't have a lot of inspiration right now. Not just for the blog but also for writing and reading. I think it's the words. I've been having problems with words lately. It has come to my attention that I don't give people the words they need. And I don't give myself the words I need. I'm not soaking in enough helpful words, not brewing enough deep ones inside myself. I don't have writers' block, I just have writers' unmotivated laziness. During recent travels I came to the horrible realization that I was not inspiring people, especially the ones I love the most. How can I write beautiful stories when my own story is one about a girl who has turned so inward that she forgets to tell people that there existence means something to her? Where is the beauty in that? How dare I delve into the hearts and souls of my characters when I shrink back at any attempt to delve into my own thoughts and feelings? 

  I read in a book about writing that if you wait for inspiration before you write than you will spend a lot of time waiting. I've heard from many writers that writing is about writing so just sit your butt down and write. I agree with this to a degree. If a person wants to be a serious writer then they need to be disciplined, just like if you want to be a basketball player you have to work out and play when you are tired, if you want to be a writer you have to exercise your craft and work even when it's dragging. 

  But there's more to it than that. You have to deal with yourself first. Sometimes we have to fight our personal monsters before we can thrive at what we love. I don't know what you like to do or what you want to be or what is holding you back from being the best at it. But I know that I've been learning how to be a better friend and better daughter and a better person and through all that I think I am learning how to be a better writer. I've been taking a break because I haven't had inspirations for the particular stories I'm working on right now. But they need me. They need a chance to be finished and read and published. The boy needs to fight his demons and the girls need to have time to heal. 

  I need to take care of myself and take care of them and I need to write. Starting with this blog. 

  So if you made it through this rambling than     1) Thank you for bearing with me and 2) Maybe you need a break from what you love or what are good at and just ask yourself how you are doing, what you are doing good at in life and what you need to work on, go call someone you love and tell them how much they mean to you, get a cup of coffee and stare at it for a little while and maybe, just maybe, you'll learn something..