Saturday, 15 December 2012

WHAM! I'm single! And Welcome!

If you just came over from my old blog, this is going to be a bit of a surprise...

WHAM! I'm single!

Yep. There it is. Right there on the page. Behold, I am Jordan's tattered broken heart. You're going to want to ask why, and what happened. I'm not going to answer you directly, because a) there's no bloggable way to explain how a marriage breaks apart, and b) it's irrelevant. This blog is not about the end. It's about a new beginning.


source: Morguefile
There's a process certain plants have evolved, called pyriscence: the opening of seeds by fire. Some things can only grow after a destructive heat, proving that not all destruction is an ending. I took the steps, one by one, to my life's pyriscence, and I waited for the seeds to open...for that new me to begin. The one I thought would immediately pop out of its shell as the flames razed my world to the ground. 

But nothing happened. Too soon, perhaps, to expect such growth? Maybe. Or maybe an ingredient was missing. Weeks passed, and I found myself feeling frozen in place. Nothing new began. Nothing changed inside me, though I stayed strong through the fire. I felt static.

But slowly, I can feel little changes happening. I've stopped being afraid of time alone in my house. I did laundry down in the basement even though my pug Mr Darcy wouldn't follow me down. I went to a workshop one night on creativity instead of staying in my art room and introverting. Well, even then, painting again was a step in my new beginning. And the key seemed to be tears. I never had (not so far, anyway) the massive meltdown that everyone expected; instead, I found myself tearing up over a kind word sent by tweet, or the latest hiccup in the legal processes. A few minutes of tears at a time. One particularly good cry was had when I threw out my back and went to microwave a bean bag, only to discover that The Boy had taken my microwave. Lying on the floor, my pug eating my hair, I wept for my lost appliance, my lost hopes, my lost plans.

When I was looking up the scientific term for those seeds that pop in the heat, I discovered something helpful: there's another family of seeds that requires water after the fire hits. Their process is called pyrohydriscence: the seeds won't grow 'til they get good and wet. After the destruction must come a cleansing, a watering, a welcoming to begin again.
source: Morguefile

So I weep after the fire, and find myself growing. tiny seeds in a big, barren field.


Well, I invite you to check out the ABOUT page, because it will offer you a good overview. But in a nutshell, this blog is about doing life DIY-style. Sometimes that’ll be literal: crafts, and home repairs, and cooking, and travelling. Sometimes that’ll be metaphorical, like learning to sit in a silent house without screaming. Whatever is blogged on a given day, however, it’ll be an adventure, and one I did myself. 

SONG OF THE MOMENT: Alannis Morrisette, 'That I would be good'

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