Monday, November 29, 2010

Let the Sun Shine In

It's been so long since I've posted that I'm not sure I remember how to do it . . . good gracious! Has it really been over a month?!? Yes, it has, and I have nothing to offer by way of explanation. Did you miss me? Did you even notice my absence? Please don't say no. (You can think it. But please don't say it in a comment.) I've randomly commented here and there, but good friends in the blogosphere have dealt with major life events and weathered the aftermath without so much as a how-do-yo-do from my corner. I hope you don't hate me.

I'd like to be able to tell you that I have been furiously participating in NaNoWriMo, and the publishing of my masterpiece, the fabled Great American Novel, is forthcoming . . . but I can't, because I haven't been. I'd like to be able to say that I've been so caught up in cleaning and organizing my cluttered and messy house that I just haven't found the time to blog. That, too, would be a lie. I have also not been on a long trip, secretly pregnant and delivering another baby, spending all of my time volunteering at a homeless shelter, meeting with Hollywood producers regarding a made-for-TV movie about my fabulously interesting life, or engaging in a principled internet-fast. I have, quite simply, been lazy. And maybe I've been wallowing a little.

The other day I was cleaning Garrett and Connor's room. I am baffled by boy smells. Even if they go to bed squeaky-clean and Burt's Bees-scented, I am still overwhelmed by a mysterious odor not unlike scrambled eggs whenever I check on them at night. This prompts me, on a regular basis, to fling open the windows and let the breeze blow through, in a futile attempt to air out the latent smell of burgeoning testosterone.

I pushed the windows as high as I could, and then, as I tucked the quilt and fluffed the pillow and arranged the stuffed animals on Garrett's bed, I noticed the play of light through the open blinds. I watched windblown leaf-shadows dance across Laney Kate's dimpled fingers as she patted the bedding, an ardent and surprisingly productive mimic of my own tidy efforts.

I had a brief moment of clarity as I watched her golden-red hair glint in the bright light: the sun, I realized, keeps on shining. All I have to do is let it in -- throw open my windows, pull back the curtains, raise the blinds, let myself be illuminated by the light that cannot stop itself from filling up an empty space -- my empty space. The sun keeps on shining. The grass keeps growing, the world keeps spinning, the birds keep singing, even if I'm not watching.

This is the greatest tragedy of blocking out the sunlight: What did I miss? What did I not see because I was closed off from the possibility? I'll never know.

But now I'm watching, and these windows are open for good.

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  1. Welcome back! Pull up a chair and stick around for a while. :-)

  2. I noticed something missing in my reader! Welcome back. :)

  3. Well I have missed you, and I am still bothered by boy smells--or sweaty kid smells in general!

  4. I have definitely missed you. Glad to see you back, and I loved your last words here. Something I've been working on myself.

  5. Welcome back. You've been missed. And you are busy...busy just BEING whatever it is that you need to BE in this season of your life. Sometimes Life demands that we keep our chins down and our shoulders to the wheel...and then Life reminds us to lift our eyes and have a look around.
    The best novels come from authors who've lived long enough and focused enough, that they actually have a story to tell--remember that. All of this living stuff--even the boy smells--will be wasted. It all adds up and gives you something to write about.
    So good to see the whites of your eyes!

  6. *Should say WILL NOT BE WASTED.

  7. Yes I've missed you!!!!!! I keep checking and checking and checking and today it was such a sweet surprise to see that you have posted something new :)

    Glad to know you are letting the sun shine in - ironically it couldn't be more cloudy today but its light is still coming in my window too and HIS light too ... always ... right?

    Hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving.


  8. I have missed you! I have to admit, I do keep all the windows closed during the day. I like it dark and cozy.

  9. Oh this is beautiful...I need this reminder rather desperately.

    And you have been MISSED desperately. I've nearly emailed a few times, but haven't wanted to harass. Life gets busy...time passes. But sweetly fabulous people like you will always be missed.

  10. First time visiting you. I saw your comment over at Kristina's and was drawn to your "handle" InkMom.
    Anyway, just had to say that your post was beautifully written and very inspiring...and it reminded me a bit of a song that Pebbles and Bambam sang on the Flintstones: "Let the Sunshine In!" Maybe I'm aging myself here...

  11. I've been gone a lot too, and feeling guilty for not reading blogs--so I'm a tiny bit glad you haven't posted in a while, because that means I didn't ignore you. (Yeah, totally selfish.)

  12. I've missed you. And I miss the sun.


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