A.K.A. catching up on a bunch of stuff.
First of all, happy Valentine’s Day, to all of you lovely people out there!
They say you’re not learning unless you’re failing. I must be learning BIG TIME at work these days.
That’s all I’m going to day about that.
On February 1st, St. Brigid’s Day, or Imbolc, I attended Wooing the Soul, a day-long workshop and storytelling session intended to help women connect with their inner goddess. I enjoyed the storytelling, which was based on The Wooing of Etain. We danced, we sang, we invoked the spirit of Brigid, saint and goddess, and we shared food and experience.
I reconnected with a few friends whose circles I’ve moved away from in the past years.
While it was a good day, I found it was a bit long. I kept finding myself thinking, I could be writing, which is, incidentally, how I connect with my inner goddess. It’s a problem I have. Instead of talking about something, or listening to others talk about it, I’d rather be doing it 😛
I won’t write more about the day because others have done a better job than I could, namely, my friend Kim Fahner on her Republic of Poetry blog, and the facilitator herself, Ann Kathleen McLaughlin, on her blog, SophiAwakens.
Training of a different sort
I haven’t delivered a creative workshop in some time and I was looking forward to it. I’d love the opportunity to do more of these in the future. *hint, hint, universe*
I was far more nervous than I usually am before a training gig, which is to say I was a bit of a wreck, but the class was an intimate group.
The workshop was only two hours, and I had trouble keeping things on track, because the training I deliver for work is rarely less than a day. It wasn’t too bad, however, as the class was largely not at the querying stage yet, so the fact that I wasn’t able to discuss that aspect of getting published at length wasn’t a huge issue.
I also shared my notes and PowerPoint after the class, so everyone received all the bits I wasn’t able to discuss at length in the class.
I’m quite happy with how things turned out.
There are always lessons learned attached to any learning event, though, and I’ve got those tucked away for next time 🙂
The writing life
In writing news, I received my second rejection of a short story this year. I try to take the view that I am one more rejection closer to ‘yes,’ but honestly, things that been going so poorly in general of late that it’s been a little difficult to maintain a positive outlook.
Still, I continue to forge ahead with writing, revising, and submitting. It’s what we writers do.
Nuala had another glucose curve back in January and the result is that we increased her insulin by four units a day and tried reducing her prednisone.
The former is working well (we think) but we had to resume her previous dosage of pred as her ears were beginning to close up again.
Otherwise, our pup-child is doing well and we’ll return to the vet in March for another glucose curve and general checkup.
A clarification on the dream thing
I just wanted to be clear that I have ‘normal’ dreams, too.
The other night, for example, I dreamed that my sister-in-law invited herself over to our house for a sleepover, which was to take place, at her request, in the storage area of our unfinished basement, which barely has room for us to stand or move around in, let alone three adults and camping gear—oh, didn’t I mention, the sleepover was actually a camp-out, in the middle of one of the coldest winters we’ve had recently, in an uninsulated basement with a drafty window . . .
I’ve also had work-related dreams in which the office has moved into a shopping mall and I’m there, after hours, with Phil, moving my own office furniture. I’m wearing a power suit, have short, dark hair, and I’m skinny in that way only women who spend several hours a day working out are skinny. But I’m still me. No one else is there.
Or, I’ve dreamed that my boss gets a promotion, and she invites me along for the ride, literally, as she’s boarding a Lear jet and I’ve been summoned to the runway on the assumption that, of course, I’ll want to drop everything and go.
Inside the jet, she lounges like Cleopatra, a platoon of virile, young military men seeing to her every desire. I wish her well and get the heck out of Dodge, happy to have escaped the ‘trap.’ Oh yes. Hellish trap, that would be . . .
I’ve had stress dreams, falling dreams, chase dreams, abandonment dreams, and nightmares I’m not going to repeat, because, while they are all perfectly clear in my memory, I don’t want to feed those particular beasts.
It’s just those rare few per year that are well developed stories in their own rights that have little, if anything, to do with my waking life.
Just so you know. I’m mostly normal. Mostly (she says in a voice like Newt’s in Aliens).
So that’s it for this week. My mom’s coming over for supper in a bit, and then I’m going to throw my hat in the ring of another writing contest.
Break a pencil in all of your creative endeavours this week!