It’s Tuesday. You know the drill.
I love this mug. The photo is from the writers rertreat, and the mug belongs to one of the participants. It just seems so counterculture in a place of worship. I love it!
I said this on Twitter but if living well is the best revenge, I’m on an mf-ing rampage! Returning to real life on Sunday, I thought for sure I would lose my newly found center as soon as I walked through the door. But I made it through Monday and kept my focus. Even found time to go to the gym, which I just haven’t be able to do on a regular basis. Here’s hoping my new found balance continues into the New Year.
I plan on sending manuscript #2 to the publisher this week. I’m hoping they’ll take it but no guarantees. It’s time to move forward and move on. Wish me luck!
Last week, after the Improbable Places Poetry Tour at the swimming pool, I was speaking with host Colleen Michaels about how frazzled we were feeling after watching our kids splash and play in the pool during the poetry reading. Yes, it was fun, but I spent much of my time trying to keep my kids quiet (in a pool? What was I thinking?).
The next morning, I was thankful I was able to incorporate our kids into the poetry event. This is a modified version of what I wrote to Colleen in an e-mail; I feel very strongly about this (Colleen, hope you don’t mind).
For all the poet moms out there:
The truth is we rarely bring the kids to poetry events. But occasionally we’re lucky enough to read at or create events where we can do that. And maybe, just maybe, our kids will have more of an appreciation of poetry later in life because they can see what it can be. Poetry is all about community. It's good for them to see us active in the community doing something we love. My hope is that one day Alex and Ella will tell their kids, "My mom once brought me to a poetry reading at a swimming pool! It was so much fun!!"
I am constantly thinking about the choice between artist and mother, and really there is no choice. I do both. But when these two worlds intersect, good things happen.