“In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you.” Deepak Chopra
“Art, in itself, is an attempt to bring order out of chaos.” Stephen Sandheim
In all the chaos of this world, is it really possible to find that “stillness” within you? Could art (in my case, writing) be the key to bringing that “stillness” back into our lives?
Everything in my life is currently out of whack, and I’m having a very difficult time trying to find my rhythm as a writer again. I’m still living out of bins and eating off paper plates, and cooking meals in the microwave all the while trying to keep my house immaculately (with seven cats and a young boy) clean and odor-free for potential buyers/realtors who can come at any given moment. Hubby has been out in North Dakota for almost a month now working in his new job. He thinks he has found us a home there, but now we’re just waiting on someone to buy our house here. Logistics can be a real pain.
Son is really missing his dad so I’m trying to stay positive and upbeat for him. My mom comes over every other day to visit and help me when she can, but she’s still dealing with losing her life’s mate, and I’m trying to be there for her emotionally (as I have been a widow once). But, I am really missing my daddy too.
To top it all off, I’m juggling bills and various expenses with only one income; trying to make it all stretch just long enough ’till my disability benefits come through. Oh, and trying to keep my anxiety level down because of the worrying of not hearing or seeing something when I should have in order to avoid any major disaster (wish my darn eyes and ears would work like everyone’s else).
All the stressing and worrying have me so distracted, I’m finding it nearly impossible to focus on writing; and this would then add on to my frustration since I really need this outlet to calm my nerves down, and free my mind of all the clutter that keeps piling up in this over-stimulated mind of mine.
Something has to give. So, here I go, sitting my butt down in the chair (one of the few furniture still left in the house), and I’m going to write. It may not be eloquent or any good at all…but I know this action will miraculously (as only writing can do for me) still my racing thoughts and quiet my nerves.