This past week has had a lot of personal stuff hit me and come to a head emotionally, and one of the ways I cope is by turning off the internet. Maybe it has to do with the fact that I had a birthday on Monday. Or maybe it has to do with the fact that I was catching glimpses of my first book releasing 5 years ago. (RIP Hart Clan Hybrids) It could also be some seriously dark parts of the news hitting me harder than I could handle while still functioning and showering as an adult.
So I gave myself permission to stop and breathe.
Because I don't want to be dark here. I want this blog and my books to be a spot of light, and there are times in my life, like everyone else's that I don't feel the laughter. I didn't even use a single sticker in my planner this past week, and anyone who has seen my planner knows there was something seriously off.
I had a funnier blog planned for today, but looking at it up against the rough experience I chatted about last week, didn't make me happy with the flow. So that blog will be coming in the next couple of days. (Foreshadowing for the retail warriors out there...google Retail Robin.)
I was walking back into my office after reheating my coffee and saw the sign my parents brought back for me after their recent trip to New Orleans.
This sign sits on top of my stove and usually makes me smile, but today it made me think.
My biggest goal in life at the moment is to attempt to find a place of balance. Right now I'm on a sprint of emergency management and constant taxi service for family members. Right now I'm in the coffee part of life. Everything is energetic and fast paced. My days are busy, and I'm scrambling to write everything down that will cause a disaster if I don't handle it NOW. I'm shaky and on edge, and showering is sometimes too much to ask. Bless whoever invented dry shampoo.
But there are days and moments among the coffee, when I crash. There are days when, for my own sanity, I need to turn it all off and play a video game all day. There are moments that I have to stop and watch an hour of youtube videos and remember to breathe. There are times when I put real life away and let "Roxy" take over. I go to RWA meetings, or writing events, or even get on Discord with my CP and madly type until I can't form a complete sentence. Those moments are wine. Those days help numb the buzz of the coffee.
Those are the extremes. Those are the endcaps that push me back toward the middle. The extremes push me back to my life. Yesterday I went and spent an hour playing in a Halloween pop up store with my family. We chased a robot Chuckie around. We walked into a mini haunted house with a water-like layer of fog. We danced to Jason's stabbing music, and put on funny masks to check and see if the Grim Pizza Reaper would be a viable costume. And we laughed. We didn't accomplish anything, we didn't check anything off a To Do list. And we weren't escaping reality. It was a moment between coffee and wine.
I've been doing meditative work and self-reflection in my journal, which I started writing in again yesterday after a few days off. I've been looking at mindfulness as an aspiration. I'm trying to take moments in the day and appreciate them for what they are instead of running ahead in my schedule or thinking about what I should be doing instead. I think mindfulness is often harder for creatives because when we're not working on our new project we're either thinking about it or feeling guilty for doing something other than completing what our muse wants next. Yesterday was the first time I've felt that moment of mindfulness in a long time.
Our store stop wasn't on the schedule. It wasn't in the plans, and it accomplished nothing other than getting me a new shirt proclaiming my lineage as the 4th Sanderson Sister. (Tweet proof below.)
I've found the "Life" between my "Coffee" and "Wine" this week. And I feel like I'm working my way back toward the grind with a little more perspective.
Take care of yourselves, and I hope you find a little joy in a moment you might not expect today. If you do, tell me about it. I'd love to hear your story.