Archive for life

What Writer’s Block Sounds Like

Posted in Life, Present with tags , , , , on January 13, 2014 by Shea Atkin

I continue to try to read more and more to escape the writings that need to be done. As time goes on, the necessity increases as my willingness decreases. It used to be a gift, a joy to pick up the pen and put it to paper. I loved anticipating what fiction (although perceived as absolute fact) was going to come out. Now I look at the words–they are mine–but I don’t want them. They don’t pass whatever criteria I have for being legitimate. So my words are orphans without a home and where they come from (myself) doesn’t want them either. The limbo of lost and seemingly insignificant words flowing freely but unwanted from their creator although the necessity of their origination being vital. Only in connecting the fragments do I understand the stained glass. The beauty in the brokenness. The authenticity.

Floating aimlessly over the page–these words are for whom? What is the point? And what are they supposed to mean? I used to write publicly but I don’t know if I ever will again. It all sounds like shit. God–where do we go from here? I wish I could say that I miss the ‘me’ that used to write but I’m so glad that time has passed. Those words were also necessity with a tone of despair and hopelessness. The end of the pen was my only solace–the ultimate higher power. Now the pen is only the vessel. It’s role has changed as well as the heart that inspires it’s movement. The flow is choppy at best. Fragmented thoughts without the sting on cynicism. Truth, with the only hopelessness being in the ego. Words don’t sound as sexy coming from a healthier place. The darkness seemed to draw such appeal. Now I sit awake with truth and light unable to convey artistically the essence of that reality. And I sit.

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Only Questions

Posted in Life, Past, Poetry, Present with tags , , , , , on January 4, 2013 by Shea Atkin

Sitting with no answers
Only questions of motives
And a sinking feeling in my gut–
Only though about after the alleged occurrence

Questioning what is real
And what is just perception
And aren’t both the same?

Leaves me to ask
What’s the point of all this?

A long succession of self-judged failures
Masking as a lesson
At least that is how it feels

This journey, that is supposed to be the point?

I make more mistakes than ever before
Or maybe I’m just more aware
Or maybe my position on the word mistake has changed

Wanting to escape the elusive “I am”
Hit the pause button every now and then
Longing for the easier way I had grown so accustomed

But the honest way provides no shortcuts
No escape routes
The distance is the same for everybody
That comforts
And irritates me
All at the same time

This human experience
The unpredictability of it all
The unknown
And the known
Is everything
And nothing
All at the same time

No Words

Posted in Life, Present with tags , , , , , , , , , on September 20, 2011 by Shea Atkin

 

Recently, I have found myself here quite often. 

 It’s that point to where I am at the end of myself .  You know, that place where you are sick of talking about doing and actually start ‘doing’. Whatever that means in your life.

The less I say, the more I listen.  Paradoxically, the more I listen, the more I will eventually have to say when the timing is right.  I have done a lot of observing lately.  I am starting to recognize the traits in others that annoy me are usually the exact issues that I struggle with. As soon as I take a step back (from myself), I can usually see where my thinking was distorted.

At this place of no words, I can finally admit to myself that I don’t have all the answers.  There was an illusion of comfort when I asserted control (perceived or real), but ultimately brought nothing but burnout and despair.  I want to not want all of the answers.  It’s exhausting.

This realization makes me very thankful for simple things.  The things I was too busy to pay attention to before.  But this doesn’t mean that everything is feeling good.  Actually, quite the reverse.  I feel more vulnerable and sensitive than ever.  It’s in doing the things that make me extremely uncomfortable that I stumble upon the faith to grow.  It’s being open to the opportunity that I find the lesson.  It’s tough and messy and feels totally wrong, but I have a tiny grain of peace that gets me to the next thing.

In times like these, when I feel no desire to write, it’s probably because life is just a little too real. I’m glad that I decided to push past my feelings of being uncomforable to do what I truly love.  I’m myself when I put pen to paper.  It’s just bringing me back to the present, one day at a time.

Grounded Angel

Posted in Present with tags , , , , , , , , , , on May 4, 2011 by Shea Atkin

First off, I want to give a special shoutout to one of my best friends.  http://groundedangel.wordpress.com . Check out her blog, she is AMAZING and a constant source of inspiration for me.  This blog is dedicated to her.

I feel most grounded when I am in the dirt, or in the clouds.  Most of the time I don’t even realized how grounded I am NOT until I experience a renewal of grounding.

Lately I have been feeling kind of lost, because I have gotten away from the daily things that make me, ‘me’.  Being a creation of my Father, I have to be in tune with what His purpose for my life is.  Thankfully, I am not as hard on myself as I used to be.  I can’t tell you how many times I would beat myself up over trivial matters–and in turn, my whole day (or week) would be ruined.  Now, I can take it one day (or one minute) at a time and be perfectly fine with it.  It’s about progress rather than perfection.

Today I went to my friends garden to pull weeds, plant squash and water the produce.  I didn’t realize how much went into creating food until I became a part of the organic solution.  Afterwards, we went to a cute little French bistro and talked about life.  I had THE most amazing time with my friend.  When I came home and put my son down for his nap, I jumped online to catch up with groundedangel’s blog and felt so connected in the process.  I swear, God made this day especially for me.

I’m so grateful for the friends that have been put in my life.  I can’t imagine what life would be without the ones that keep me grounded.  I remember a time, not so long ago, when I felt isolated, alone and misunderstood.  All that changed was my perspective and the desire to not feel that way anymore.  It was time to let go of the old record that played nothing but negativity and say hello to a new way of life that took a little work and a lot of nurturing.  Sure, vulnerability was side effect, but LIFE was the outcome.  Today I live and love and breathe.  I don’t ever want to go back to the way I was before, but I will always remember it, to appreciate where I am today.

Groundedangel and all of my other loves, you are the reason I am who I am.  Keep on ‘being you’.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.  Peace and Love, ,my dear friends.

Moving

Posted in Present with tags , , , , , , , on February 23, 2011 by Shea Atkin

We are moving in 2 days.  Moving has always created anxiety for me.  In the past 7 years, Matt and I have never stayed in the same residence for more than a year.  And here we go again.  This time, I am thoroughly feeling it.  I’m tired of having to go through the same routine, but at the same time, thankful that things are finally starting to fall into place–slowly.

Mostly all of my stuff is in boxes.  I am looking for things to no avail.  So I decided to sit down and blog about it instead of going crazy in my head.  Over the past year in our current apartment, we have gone through some major changes.  I very much look forward to starting over (again), but I appreciate the times that we have spent here.  I know that moving isn’t going to change everything, but it will lend the opportunity to make positive changes.  Ollie can’t wait to play in the “big yard”.  It’s the little things that I am excited about.  Like the fact that we can finally have a grill again.  And I can sit outside in a hammock with beautiful trees to shade from the hot sun.  We can get a slip-n-slide for the ridiculously excruciating summer months instead of being cooped up in a top floor apartment.  We will have wood floors and a big tile kitchen that Matt finally gets to decorate in London theme.  We will have Crystal living with us to hang out with Ollie.  The list could go on forever.

I go into this new move with much gratitude.  The first time I walked onto the premises, I felt healing.  This will be a healing home.  I don’t know what that means exactly, but I know that it will be a safe place to just ‘be’.

Moving means a lot of different things, but this time it will be on purpose.  It’s time to say goodbye to certain aspects of the past and move forward with a positive direction.  This year is going to be special and unique.

Instead of stressing about where my toenail clippers are, I will just take a deep breath and know that everything will fall into place eventually.  I’d rather enjoy the last couple of days here rather than fight it.  I’m so tired of fighting.

Perception

Posted in Life, Present with tags , , , , , , , , on February 10, 2011 by Shea Atkin

It’s everything and nothing, all at the same time. Whatever that means.

Recently I have gone through a series of dramatic occurences that leave me scratching my head.  I have more questions than answers.  Tonight I realize that is ok.  As I look at stuff from an objective viewpoint, I start to grasp the true definition of perception, which is:

The act or faculty of apprehending by means of the senses or of the mind; cognition; understanding.  www.dictionary.com

I’m struck by the word ‘act’.  Knowing doesn’t get me anywhere without action.  I have tons of intentions that end up nowhere.  Action is the only way to truly be fully aware of perception and it’s role in my life.  Over the past month, I have asked ‘why’ about a million times.  As the days go on, I find that timing is everything.  These situations were not ‘bad’ or ‘good’–they just, were.  I guess if I really knew the big picture, I would try to rush things.  But reality is, all I have to do is live.  One day at a time.  That’s it.  It’s hard for me because I like to make things happen.  I want to force whatever I perceive to be ‘right’ into the equation.  This inevitably leads to a big, fat mess.  I can’t even tell you how many times I have to relive and relearn this lesson.

I heard a quote today that resonated– “When emotion and intellect are in a battle, emotion usually wins.”  This rings true more often than not, for me.  That 18 inches between my head and my heart try to meet, but usually one dominates.  Theoretically I can calculate what to do in a given situation, but throw my crazy emotions into the equation and I wind up a basketcase.  This leads me to the understanding that I need to work certain steps to ensure that ‘Crazy Shea’ doesn’t break onto the scene once times get tough. And I learn.  And I learn.

I only have the tools to change the crazy in me, not in you.  I can only affect my perception and not impose it on others.  For most of my life, I have tried to fix situations so everything runs smoothly.  This results in huge resentments on my part since I can’t control anything.  Now that I am finally just staying on my side of the street (for the most part), the ‘crazy’ has lessened and life doesn’t feel so piercingly loud and chaotic.  The perception shift is dynamically profound and produces a calm I have never known.  For once, life is as it should be, in this moment.  Nothing more, nothing less.

 

Space Mountain

Posted in Present with tags , , , , , , on February 1, 2011 by Shea Atkin

While Ollie and I were building blocks this morning, I had a Disney World documentary on in the background.  As soon as the Space Mountain part came up–I started tearing up.  It reminded me of one of the times our grandparents took us down there.  Grandpa and I were the thrill seekers, while Grandma and Piper just watched us make fools of ourselves.  So, Grandpa and I were in line for Space Mountain for a good hour at least.  As soon as our turn came along, for some reason, I freak out and tell him that I cannot do it.  I don’t know what it was, but I just got terrified all of a sudden.  My sweet grandpa was livid, but he kept his cool.  For those of you who knew him–He was definitely not known for his patience!  But, he loved Piper and I with a love that was indescribable.  He sucked it up, and we walked back to Piper and Grandma after waiting in line for over an hour.

I’m not sure of why I remember this so vividly, as I have not thought about it in years.  We were really young, but I remember how much he did for us and how many times “Space Mountain” occurences happened without my finite knowledge.  Unconditional love is a rare and amazing gift.  I didn’t realize what it was until after he was long gone.  I am so grateful to have been able to have him as my grandfather.  I learned so much from his example and he never got to see the result.  I was still a crazy, immature 21 year old when he died–but I like to think that he knew I was a carbon copy of him and that I would turn out alright. We were both completely hardheaded and stubborn, but we learned from our mistakes (eventually).  He actually died a few days after we have one of our famous “spars”, which of course he got the last laugh (as always).  I regretted it for years, but I know that it didn’t really matter, he knew my heart and loved me for it.

I can’t believe that a Space Mountain documentary brought all of this up.  I sit here writing with tears rolling down my face.  Memories are crazy things.  I think what got me is that I picked up  my phone to call him and tell him the memory as soon as it happened–It was second nature. Once I realized he was dead, I lost it.  Ollie was looking at me with a completely puzzled look, I’m not much of a crier.  I’m guessing he was quite confused.  Even though my Grampee has been gone for almost a decade, he still feels very much alive.

I miss him more than I could ever write.  I just hope that I can be as good of a parent to Ollie as he was to me.