I’ve been preoccupied since we got back from the UK in October 2012 with the succession of rescue animals who have entered our home – a mother cat, Jezebel, and her two kittens, Sweetie & Tinkerbell, a kitten blind in one eye called Bella, and a small puppy, Zoe, who now resembles a baby elephant, plus another rescue puppy, Ziggy who – hopefully – will turn out to be smaller than a baby elephant!
Over the New Year, as some of friends know, my husband got an attack of Delhi Belly, collapsed and has spent a few days recovering from dehydration and the bug. For my part, on New Year’s Day I slipped on one of Ziggy’s puddles and once again had a close encounter with our marble floor which remains as hard as it was when I first fell.
My husband’s now recovering and my aches and pains are fading. Today we both feel brighter because we’ve consigned our two puppies to the pooch shed in our garden where they are warm, safe and not ripping the house and garden apart until we get up and start yelling at them. We finally – after what I realise is a long, long time – had an unbroken, long night’s sleep. And we’re all the better for it.
And so today, after I’ve been stretched out on the sofa these past few days like a Victorian maiden fading away and reading Julia Cameron’s book, The Right to Write, I felt like I’d had a revelation, like I’d jumped through a burning circle from feeling flat, tired out with the mutts’ shenanigans and care, and a bit uninspired and aimless, and arrived with a whole new perspective of myself as a writer. And I feel energised and raring to go once again.
I only realised in my later years that I had a gift for writing. It’s very clear in my astrological chart but it’s always seemed so natural to me that I took it for granted. I can write at the drop of a hat. As a kid I was always writing stories. I studied languages, French and German, at university and love the English language and – shock, gasp, horror – English grammar. I love to see English well-used and wince at its misuse.
But I’ve sort of psyched myself into focusing only on the book I’ve been writing, and seen blogging as something of a bit adjacent to my one-eyed fixation on book-writing. But suddenly today I realised that I can write about anything, ANYTHING, in my blogs without giving up my dream of writing my autobiography and sharing everything I’ve learned over sixty-five years about knowing yourself, living your own life, plus skills in crystals, astrology, art and Tarot. I see myself now as Renaissance Woman – not limited to one thing only but ranging over travel, nature, people, social justice, peace, the future re-imagined – whatever takes my fancy.
I know the blog fascists tell you to focus on one area of interest to garner support, but it’s never been the name of my game. I like writing what attracts my interest and what I feel I want to write about, regardless of the subject. I have a grasshopper mind, jumping from subject to subject, and I’ve come to realise it’s a good strength, not one to try to force into a straitjacket.
So I hope to blog more regularly, but ONLY when I feel I’ve got something I want to write about, not just for the sake of it. Of course, people tell you to write every day on a blog to guarantee an audience but, frankly, I’d rather be true to myself than try to dance the rigid steps of what you’re supposed to do, not what you love to do.
My blog in 2013 will be the Dance of the Faeries, wherever these spritely beings lead me, hopefully a merry dance into mystery, mayhem and magic. It’s taken me right back to the sub-title of my blog: “Revolutionista on the Road Less Travelled”! This year I’ll definitely be stepping out on many roads less travelled.