The word ‘amaze’ has been rolling around in my head for a good few days now. It’s what I want to do, it’s what I want to be. Amazing, amazed.
If you look at the word long enough, it starts to make your eyes go squiffy. Your brain starts wondering just what it means. And perhaps this is how it works, looking at it with a long, slow, sideways glance. A little lazy, even. Just keeping your mind and emotions open to the wonderous, the mundane, and something that which is both. Allowing yourself to take it all in.
That’s not enough for me, though. Perhaps it should be, but it just isn’t. Anything beautiful and inspiring gives me an odd feeling: aside from the predictable feelings anyone might have, it causes a little nibble of ache in my heart. I could be doing that, why aren’t I doing that, I am so capable of that. Ordinary life sometimes disappoints me.
A friend asked if I was signed up for NaNoWriMo this year. It made me laugh, initially. Nano doesn’t happen till November. It is still September. There are people all over the world writing plot lines, getting their coffee pots ready, geeking out in the most adorable way possible. And me? I’m like, shit, that’s November. Besides, shouldn’t writing be every day?
I don’t know who I am to judge, though, as it has been a long time since I’ve written a novel. Too long. I am now imagining that Nano might be a nice opportunity to teach me how to maintain steady writing (other than this blog and twitter!) with two newborns in the picture. I haven’t written any fiction since my pregnancy took a turn for the painful, and since the babies have been here it hasn’t quite been the last thing on my mind, but it’s been the last thing on my list of priorities.
I want to amaze myself more than anything else. I don’t know why I am not suitably amazed that I have seven week old twins and am doing just fine. I guess I AM amazed by that, but also worry that it could all go to shit in about 20 seconds. And sometimes it does, but mostly I am just tired tired tired. Wanting more me time than is allowable, head often threatened with a sleepy, slow nightmare headache, warm bodies snuggled against me. Today I have one baby in his cot, one baby in a bouncer at my feet (why aren’t you awake? It is time to eat!), one brain suspended somewhere between the two. One body glued to the couch, heavy and exhausted.
Amaze, amaze, amaze. What can I do to amaze myself today? This is a question I don’t want to be afraid to ask.