What is it about this moment? I am encountering it so often!
The bleakest part of my day since Dale died is that moment,
late at night when I finally build up enough courage to crawl out to the end of
the allegorical diving board and head to bed. It seems like I literally inch down
the diving board as I turn down the covers of the bed, take off my robe; kick off my slippers; slide
between the white sheets and nestle onto the pillow, which I then punch a few
times to make it more comfortable. Then I reach for my book and read a bit,
turn on Pandora and listen to some relaxing music for a bit, turn it off, click
off the reading light on my nightstand, turn it back on to check the time,
click of it off again, and then on again and then off again suddenly fascinated
by the shadows it makes on the ceiling, turn onto my side and then…there’s that
dreaded moment, as painted so precisely by Norman Rockwell. I’m at the end of the board. It’s quiet and dark, so I’m left with nothing
but my thoughts and the pictures swirling in my head that remind me that “I am alone” and I wait for
sleep to overtake me….wait wait wait. It
seems my mind just won’t allow me to take the plunge into blissful, restful
sleep. And so I lay there, not at peace like
it is supposed to be at bedtime (and as it used to be when Dale was at my side)
but rather I feel apprehensive, fearful, nervous, sad…..until I succumb
and get up or miraculously doze into a
fitful slumber.
I feel myself at this pivotal “edge of the diving board” moment in other
instances as well. I refer to them as my “Norman Rockwell Moments”…
People often say, “Just jump right in” “Dive right in” “Take
the Plunge” Oh if it were just that easy! Regardless of how prepared you are
it’s that last moment, that Norman Rockwell moment, that moment between getting
yourself there and then actually making that leap that is so hard.
I encountered it last week as I determined what was holding
me firmly at the precipice of writing again, oh the dreaded writer’s block. And
I’m encountering it now as I am holding on and trying to overcome an artist’s
block.
I have the stage set, everything is there waiting for me in
my studio. Waiting or taunting, I’m not sure which…I’m holding on tight to the
edge, can I do it?? Second thoughts are
holding me back. I’m stuck.
And then, out of the blue I hear a bling on my phone with a
text from my son 2500 miles away. He says that he felt that Dad wanted him to
give me the message “Creativity is Key”.
I chew on that 3 word piece of advice for a full ten minutes before I
realize that I have been focusing on the wrong thing.
Let me explain it this way…
Each August, when I was about 8 or 9, my sister and I would
venture to our little town’s public swimming pool. It had two diving boards, the standard one
and a 20 foot high dive. I would sit on
my towel at the edge of the shallow end of the pool and watch the brave souls
who would climb the ladder, walk to the end and jump in! Wow!!
The long summer weeks wore on and the hot summer sun and the trips to
the pool and the smell of chlorine became the norm as did my desire to be brave
enough to take the plunge. (I already
knew how to swim quite well, I had learned at the lake when I was 3 or 4, well
I was good enough in fact that one day my sister and I were able to swim under
the dock and tie together the lines of the fisherman’s poles that were hanging
straight down from the dock with little worms wiggling on the hooks and then we
pulled, and as the dozing fisherman all thought they caught a fish at the same
time they jumped for their poles and reeled each other in…oh they were mad!)
But I digress, one day at the swimming pool, I stood up, clenched my little
fists and walked the full length of the pool and grabbed onto the ladder of the
high dive. I climbed each rung feeling
less and less sure of myself as I reached higher and higher into what? Bravery
or foolery? I pulled myself up on the
final rung and looked at the view of the park, its green trees, the little
stream running around the edge and oh look at all of the teeny tiny people
around the pool. What??? Gulp.
But the big kids behind me were yelling, “Come on! Get Going!”
I walked down the length of the board being careful not to
slip. There was a bit of carpeting at the very end, wet from the feet of former
divers and I stood on it. OK, I could turn around, walk back down the long
diving board and climb back down the ladder past each laughing boy or, I could
jump. I realized in that moment that the
decision was mine and mine alone. So I
jumped! Feet first, my life didn’t flash
before my eyes, that was a good sign, but I held my hands out like putting on
the brakes I guess and whap, I hit the water and then it was silent. That other worldly underwater silence enveloped
me as I careened down to the bottom of the pool, pushed off the coarse texture
of the floor with my feet and rose to the top. I’d done it! My hands were stinging and red for a full 2
minutes though. Hmmm. Note to self…”Don’t put out your hands when
you jump off the high dive!”
It didn’t take as much “courage building” to go the second
time. This time I had a different
mission, it wasn’t to have enough courage to jump this time but to do it with my
hands pinned down to my sides. I forgot
to notice how the rungs of the ladder were hard on my bare feet, I forgot to
notice how far up I was when I reached the top, I forgot to notice how long the
walk to the end of the diving board was, I even forgot to notice if anyone
behind me was cheering or jeering. I
just put my hands tightly at my sides, took a breath and jumped. Down I went, that fluttery butterfly feeling
in my stomach wasn’t from fear this time it was from the determination of it.
My hands didn’t slap the water; I went straight to the bottom. I bent my knees
and thrust myself back up to the top for a glorious deep gulp of oxygen. I swam to the edge of the pool, climbed out
and sat back down on my towel. Satisfied
and happy. The new goal, or the focus on
it, instead of thinking about each step and the potential pitfalls made all of
the difference. I immediately began to formulate in my mind
that perhaps the next time I would put my hands together up over my head, like
an arrow diving in but feet first.
So, once again, as we so often do, I am reaching back to my
youth for the inspiration and motivation I need today. If I could do it then, I
can do it now. Thank goodness it’s just
picking up a charcoal pencil not diving off a high dive. But… alas, here I am….
If Dale says Creativity is the Key. Then that will be my focus instead of my fear...
I’m going in…feet first. Here I go.......
Say a little prayer for me!
WRITING ASSIGNMENT #9 - FAVORITE ANCESTOR STORIES
Chances are, throughout your life, you have been inspired by stories of your ancestors. Retell at least two of your favorite stories this week.
We will have a future assignment about your Grandparents, so you might want to chose Ancestors other than your 4 Grandparents. If you don't have any stories, it would be a good time to ask a relative if they have any to share with you!
Remember to give the full names and birth dates and birth locations of your ancestors in the stories and exactly how you are related to that person.
Have fun with this one and include photos if you have any! You're on a roll now!!
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