Maureen Bush's Blog, page 4

The Gift of Stillness

I’ve had a tough summer, forced indoors and into inactivity by allergies and asthma. I’ve learned to take advantage of early mornings when it’s cool and the air is clear. If I wake early and feel good, I write, or work in the garden. One morning I was turning compost at 6 am, forgetting that people were sleeping nearby with open windows. Oops.

I take time for breakfast outside. I bring flowers in when I need to shut the doors and windows and turn on air filters. From inside, I watch baby robins and sparrows learn to fly and forage, and rejoice when crows visit.

As frustrating as it is to not play in the summer, this has its own benefits. It makes me think of writers who had serious illnesses as children, pushing them into their own imaginations. This has been a mini-retreat for me, deeply quiet, restful, and healing in spite of the health issues. When I feel well enough to write – when I have enough brain clarity and energy and bounce – the stories flow. That’s what I’m gaining – more flow. More flow for story, more intuition, more flow in my life. That is a miraculous gift, and a promise of what’s to come.

Maureen

The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf

Stuck in bed on a sick day, lungs overloaded by heat and pollen and smoke, I fell into a story and inhaled the book in a day – The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf, by Ambelin Kwaymullina.

FIrst cool thing: the author is aboriginal Australian (Palyku, to be precise), and I’m delighted to read voices I don’t usually hear from.

Second cool thing: it’s ecofiction, which I also haven’t read enough of.

Third cool thing: an aboriginal influence to the powers that was intriguing and convincing.

This is YA dystopian fiction, in a world somewhat reminiscent of The Hunger Games, although taken in an entirely different direction. I fell into the story and didn’t emerge until I was finished, and find myself still returning. Now I just need to convince the library to buy the rest of the series.

Maureen

 

June Glory

Allergies and asthma fell me in hot weather – I stay inside, with filters running, being quiet. But I sneak out early, to enjoy the day while I can. I’ve been eating breakfast outside, watering the garden, seeing what’s in bloom. The garden is in its glory moment, deliciously over the top with huge peonies in the starring role. Flowers peek through the picket fence, showing off for the neighbours. It’ll quiet down in July, green and sedate. Right now it’s all Look at me, Look at me!

Maureen

Word In The West

Friday night I spoke at Word In The West, a literacy event in Mountainview County, north of Calgary. I presented to a crowd of kids and parents, from babies to older elementary kids. It was a bit tricky, because of the number of younger kids. They’re adorable, and restless, and their questions tend to be “I have a bruise under my chin,” or “my dog threw up.”

We talked about what we’d like from a magic store – one wee one wanted a magic horse. The horse showed up in the story we made up, along with a dragon that needed to be rescued, but not brought into the human world because… well… dragon. I talked about writing and read from my stories, too.

On the way we stopped at a small wetlands filled with birds and madly croaking frogs.

Maureen

A Spiral of Learning

I’ve been working with an editor (thanks to Wordfest for two free sessions, and the introduction to Caralee). I’m working my way through a long list of books, suggestions, and links to articles, and then editing, editing, editing.

Pollen and poor air quality are keeping me indoors and quiet, so I have lots of time to read and think.

I hit a wall last week, feeling like I couldn’t see anymore, and would need to go back for another round of coaching. Then I read one chapter that contained every problem I’m supposed to be working on, and blam! I could see it.

I hadn’t the brain to fix that chapter, but I went back through the manuscript. I did a global change for the words I needed to find, putting them in all caps so they’d pop in the text, and then worked through the previous chapters, one more time.

I feel like I’m circling around the same issues over and over again, but each time a little deeper. A spiral of learning.

Now I’m rereading Donald Maass’s 21st Century Fiction, the last of Caralee’s recommendations, knowing that will trigger at least one more round of editing before I’m ready to go back for another lesson.

This morningI took a break, slipping outside to take pictures of my garden in the smoke-reddened air, knowing some colours would pop in the warm light.

Maureen

Snow on Apple Blossoms

Fritillaria Meleagris

I seem to be in recovery mode, slow with little brain, as I catch up on everything I’ve let slip in the last few months. I’m determined to write, but writing eludes me. No sentences emerge, no words flow.

What I do have are moments, thoughts, brief flashes of “Oh, that’s what I need to work into that story.” They come at random, but more when I meditate or read or listen to a teaching that pulls me deeper, or when working on writing skills – reading about grammar, at the moment ( yes I really am.)

I make notes, and know what I need to do next in a growing number of stories, but still, the words elude me.

So I rest, and do other things, and let the ideas play, and find inspiration in odd places, like the fritillaria blooming in my garden. It’s so wonderfully snake-like – there’s got to be a character there.

Perhaps this is what I need ­– rest and inspiration – to prime the pump. If I remember this, I’ll feel less like I’m wasting my time, and more like I’m incubating.

Maureen

Slogging Since December

We’ve been slogging since late December – moving my husband’s parents into assisted living, cleaning out and selling their house, supporting my mom through a couple of hospital visits, moving her into assisted living, and getting her condo ready for sale. It just went on the market, and we can finally catch our breath.

I wouldn’t recommend the double whammy – one move is more than enough. But we have survived, and the work was done well, the parents settling in, my house packed with new treasures. And it’s spring and the garden is in bloom and somehow the taxes are done, too. I think it’s hammock time.

Maureen

Early Morning Rain

I woke this morning to a rain-cleaned world, birds singing, the garden in bloom. The front pear tree is flowering, two weeks earlier than ever before. The forsythia is showing yellow, and bulbs are sprinkling spots of colour around my garden.

Writing is squeezed between the rest of my life, as we pack up and clean out my mom’s condo. Writing and work in the garden are my joys right now, every day.

Maureen

In Praise of Small Things

I’m drowning in details. My husband’s parents moved to assisted living in January, and we cleaned out and sold their house. My mom moved to assisted living in March, and we’re cleaning out her condo, preparing to sell it.

My desk is deep in papers for other people, my to-do list vast, my energy scattered.

My joy comes in small things ­– the first flowers in my garden, a bird chirping to me, the neighbourhood bunny’s coat changing from pure white to brown. Jewels bloom in my garden, tiny hepatica blazing behind mud-brown leaves. I have moments of joy writing, when the words come together into something new that sings.

These bring me back to myself, ground me in the present moment, remind of the incredible beauty of life, fuel me to get back to my to-do list. And they remind me that when this is done, the world will be waiting for me.

Maureen