Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Stale. It's feeling all stale here at blessourhearts. I've covered the same ground over and over and if I want to continue I either need to cover new ground or dig deeper into the ground I cover.

But me? Go further afield? I think we know my boundaries, physically, at least, and they do not extend very far. The chicken house, the garden, the woods and fields for my walk, to town to see my children, go to the store, the library. To Roseland, to Cozumel when I am beyond lucky. I am not apt to suddenly decide to go backpacking and Eurailing in Europe (that train, has left the station, no pun intended) nor am I thinking of taking a trip to Peru or to Greece or to New York City or to Australia to see the Rolling Stones or even, truthfully, into town on a Friday night to go hear a local band.

I become more and more less interested in foraging far from my home for any reason. And that leaves me sad and it leaves me feeling inadequate in every way possible and it makes me feel anxious just to consider such possibilities and it makes me feel stupid and weak and pathetic.

Which leaves emotional boundaries, I suppose. I think that there, too, I have pushed as far as I feel comfortable doing. I have so many stories I could tell but they are not mine to tell, not entirely.  Trust me- when I talk about someone else, unless that person is a celebrity or politician, I either have their permission or protect their anonymity if the subject matter goes deeper than a worm trail on hard ground. Although the very phrase, "Bless our hearts," is a bit on the smirky side, it also confers a bit of compassion, a bit of understanding that we are all in need of heart-blessing, no matter what. The difference between saying, "She's such an asshole," is completely different than saying, "She's such an asshole, bless her heart."
Those last three words convey (to me, at least) a bit of warmth, an acknowledgement of the possibility that we are all assholes at some point or another and there is usually a reason.

When I write here I think of who might read my words. I can't help that. That is who I am. My husband may read what I write, my children, my friends, my brothers. And you, whom I have come to know, some of you at least. I don't want to make people angry or embarrassed or left feeling explosed. I am perhaps too sensitive.
When we were eating lunch at a restaurant in Sebastian the other day, two women came and sat at the table beside us. One of them was a very, very small person. Child-sized. Doll-sized. Yet she was definitely a woman, not a child. And she was wearing extremely chic rich beachy type clothes. A tiny green Polo shirt with bright pink seahorses embroidered on it. A well-fitting expensive-looking skirt. Very nice shoes and a handbag that was well-proportioned for her size and probably cost more than I'll spend on Thanksgiving dinner this year. Plus a car payment. Her hair was perfect and styled in a ladies-who-lunch sort of modified controlled helmet and I wanted desperately to stare at her but of course I did not.
A man joined the two women and I yearned to figure out the relationships. I yearned to learn more. And every time someone in their conversation said the word "little" or "cute" I cringed. Would that hurt the small woman's feelings? It was ridiculous. On my part.

After lunch, in the car, Mr. Moon and I talked about the small woman a bit. "I wonder what it's like to be treated as a child your whole life?" Mr. Moon said.
"If I was small like that, I would probably use either the word cocksucker or motherfucker in every sentence I spoke," I said. To, you know...remind people that I was NOT a child.

Where am I going with this? I'm not sure. Is the little woman a metaphor for me with my little life? Do I feel as if I look like one thing but am entirely another? Do I curse and swear and to make it perfectly clear that I am not "just" a grandmother, a mother, a wife, a woman who really has no life except for this very constrained one?

I do not know.

I also know that waking up in angst and despair is part of who I am and some days, it passes quickly and easily and I accept who I am and how I live and love and some days it settles in and spreads its wings as if to hatch something evil from my heart. Today, for no apparent reason whatsoever, is one of those days.

It will pass. And hopefully, my feelings of despair about my writing and even my life will too.
Even as the rest of the world swirls and whirls around me and Facebook reports that every human on the planet is more open to change and travel and adventure than I am.
Even as I sit here, trying to make myself take a shower and go to town to push my boundaries as far as they ever go, which is not very far at all.

And I wonder when this closing-in happened to me. Has it always been here and it's only been in the last decade that I have so thoroughly quit fighting it, have given in to it?
And then again, sometimes I wonder if this small life is all my heart can hold?

It doesn't really matter, does it? But I am going to try to dig my shovel in a little deeper where the earth may be richer, darker, wetter, denser.

Maybe. We shall see.


  1. Well. You know I know that feeling of inadequacy that can just haunt us, no matter what we accomplish or how much we love and are loved back. I wish that it WEREN'T like that, and I'm seriously amazed at the amount of people that go through life without any sort of self-reflection. How can they even function, I think to myself? But then again, how can I, with all this constant looking-inward?

    We are who we are who we are. You are the best at reminding us all of this, and accepting it too.

    I think it's important to remember that your readers are not here for, never showed up nor stayed for, anything other than the life you are living. There's no impressive feat you once did, that we are all lying in wait for you to repeat. Hell, you take far more adventures and trips than I do and I know we all enjoy reading about them.

    Love you.

  2. I was trying to write some long wonderful thing to reply to your post, but I think SJ said it better than I ever could. Gail

  3. I find going out in the world daunting. It seems everything is going so fast and I can't keep up. Some friends are wanting to go to Vegas and I can't think of a worse place to go. It is right up there with North Korea.
    The fact is, I love my home and my quiet life. And you are not too sensitive. The rest of the world is just not sensitive enough and you are setting your bar by that.
    Staying home, loving your family and pets and feeding chickens is a life to be lived. You don't need to add or take anything away. I think of all my great greandmothers. They lived simple lives. Maybe we have been given too much. Maybe we are supposed to stay at home and just be.

  4. Your impact is so grand you can't perceive it perhaps.
    Can't see the motherfuckers for all the cocksuckers, or something like that.

  5. Dear Mary Moon, disregarding the very real debilitations (why does this word keep getting the red line?)of anxieties etc., your story is not small, it is Mary Moon size, and Mary Moon knows how to tell her tales in a way that others lie to listen. I love to hear about the things you and your get up to, it's like we are amenable neighbors, talking over the fence and your fence always gets the most visits, because of that storyteller talent...I find myself wondering if I am just a different species that those wildly out there people with bulging agendas and travel plans that cover the world! A dear teen-hood friend with whom I still click with instantly when we meet is such a one...I am baffled, I saw no signs! Cold wet autumn hugs, Carroll

  6. There is so much gentle wisdom here, I wonder if you see any of it. I think maybe you should respect your own boundaries and love them and I don't see a good reason for pushing them. Of course I don't know, and there might be a time and a place for pushing boundaries, but be gentle about it, okay?

    Today I read "The Other Side" by Lacy Johnson. She talked about anxiety being stored in the body and I thought of you.

    But I think you are so brave and bold. Neither has anything to do with traveling to strange places, physically. You are brave and bold in your ability to remain so loving and gentle.

    And here's Emily (who stayed at home):

    And then - the size of this "small" life -
    The Sages - call it small -
    Swelled - like Horizons - in my vest -
    And I sneered - softly - "small"!

  7. I'm a big believer that there are times in our lives when what serves us best is to go deeper, not wider.
    In other words, not every opportunity to do something or go somewhere is actually what we need or should even want.
    I think you're a wise woman and can trust your own desires (or lack of desires to go, do, be other than you are).

  8. Darling Mary, you have a very big life. I check in here every single day because I never want to miss what is going on with you, and all your beloveds including the chickens and especially those magical grandsons of yours. But most of all I come her for YOU. Just you, however you show up that day, whatever you happen to be thinking about or feeling, it's all you and I love that and I love you. You don't have to do or be other than you are. You are perfect and wonderful just as you are, however you happen to be feeling on any given day. And what SJ said. Yes. xo

  9. What they all said. With a hug thrown in for good measure.

  10. Little people seem to have enormously big hearts, and toughness in spades. I suppose you just learn it in order to deal with your life, but I think they're resiliant.

    I'm not sure it matters where you go, or don't go. Just who you are, and what you do to take care of the two square feet around you, where ever that may be.

  11. Oh Mary, stale is never,ever,never a word I would use to describe your special lil place on the internet. Soothing, joyful,loving, hysterical, irreverent...never stale, never dull, never boring. I too read *every* day and feel something missing and a bit worried if I find you haven't posted. I don't often comment because your excellent commenters always say what I'm thinking and put it so much better than I ever could. But I'm here reading & enjoying & adoring you so, so much!

  12. SJ- Thank you. I love you. I needed to hear that.

    Gail- And ditto to what I said to SJ, too. Thank you.

    ditchingthedog- I do know what you mean. It's like when we go to the grocery store and are presented with forty-two types of yogurt and seventeen brands of granola bars and our grandparents went to the store and bought iceberg lettuce and a piece of meat and some potatoes, sugar, coffee, a jar of mayonnaise and a loaf of bread. Done. There's just too much to choose from on every level of life and maybe evolutionarily we are not nearly ready for all of this. And some of us know it.

    Magnum- Where have you been? Thank you for those words. Fuck the cocksucking motherfuckers that keep getting in the way.

    Carroll- Yes. Some of us are indeed adventurers and roamers and some of us are stick-to-homers. It is good to know which one we are and it is good to hear all of the stories. Thank you.

    Ms Vesuvius- I have to admit that although I am quite aware that I am no Emily, I do indeed take comfort in the "smallness" of her life and the way her horizons never ended. Is it odd to say that the internet has expanded those too for some of us who would never meet the people whose stories intrigue us any other way? I think that is true for me. You are so wise. Thank you.

    StubblejumpinGal- Thank you, too. Some days I do trust myself to know what I need and other days I just think maybe I'm crazy and need to fix myself and you'd think by now I'd know the damn difference.

    Angella- I trust you so much and thus, I believe you. You are precious to me. Your comments make my eyes sting with tears so often because you know. You do very much know.

    Sarah- I will always take a hug. Thank you.

    Jo- I haven't known many little people at all. I think they have to be huge in personality. It is such an obvious difference, isn't it? And yes, really, some of us are meant to go out into the world in big ways and some of us are put here to tend our own little plots. I guess that is me.

  13. Angie D- You know, my life is not really boring to me at all but Jesus Christ- sometimes I wonder why anyone in this world would want to hear about it. So...thank you. Thank you for saying you do.

  14. That last image of the shovel and the earth -- it's intense and perfectly described. You are a writer.

  15. You are so real, and touch all of our hearts with your sharing of your beautiful world. I'm not on fb, instead, I come here, for my daily dose of reality. XO Sue~

  16. Well, here I am getting caught up again. So glad I didn't miss it.
    NOT STALE. Not at all not even day-old. You can't turn this into bread pudding. It's too good.
    Now bless YOUR heart. I love this blog and I love you.

  17. I can identify with this completely. I wrote a whole post this morning about how I felt like I was running dry and had nothing to write. But then I erased it and, lo and behold, wrote another post.

    As the others said, we all show up here to see what you're doing, what you have to say about your days -- and I, for one, don't mind at all if you repeat your subject matter. That's life, isn't it? There's a foundation that never changes much, which is comforting and, in your case, very entertaining. At least to me. :)

  18. I feel the same way about my blog. I've written about everything more than once but still I continue. I read somewhere that most blogs live for only about three years.

    my daughter was very tiny as a child. she's barely 5' as an adult. when she was a baby, born full term weighing only 5 pounds, people thought she was a doll. when I deposited her at the door to first grade, her first year at public school, I told her that people were going to treat her like a baby because she was so small and "don't you let them treat you like a baby". she coped by developing a very big personality.


Tell me, sweeties. Tell me what you think.