Today, I was relieved to get a small local newspaper because I’m actually dealing with living where I live. A lot of the time I feel like a coward – just because the place is located in a foreign language and a culture I did not grow up in or anything. In some ways I have adjusted a lot and in other ways I just feel like apologizing to my son for having brought us here and feel like I want to cry and be able to go back home to where I have friends and people who knew me and my mother and sister will at least come visit or something a couple of times each year.
At the same time, it is a bit fun: in truth, I’m having the best writing contracts ever so far and it seems that last year’s back luck has finally gone away rather than when one stops being plagued by a local bully: well, I think maybe I’m glad that’s over. I think that might even really be over or something like that. Some problem went away and I think it might even really be gone.
On a related note which will not appear to readers to be connected: it turns out that Singapore is rich. In a way, we knew that because it used to be rain forest. There have been a few humans there from about 200 AD/CE and then since the 1800s way more humans and apparently its rich and one of the best places in the world to do business, but its just some little islands or something that doesn’t seem like it would be so prosperous.
After enjoying 1/5 hours of German driving lessons – a normal German driving school lesson amongst local Germans, on the way home I passed more brick than most people who don’t live “in the projects” in the USA will ever see outside of a school or firehouse. Seriously, its not as if Americans don’t build with bricks at all, but around here 9 in 10 houses is made of brick and so are 80% of the streets making “the brick vibe” part of the natural atmosphere. …On the way home I got curious about local history.
Recorded written history starts around 100 AD. It had been inhabited. Most likely the tribal people had at least one or two people who specialized in history – that would be the oral tradition: sorry all you horny people but that’s not a sexual reference, it means there was a spoken and heard and memorized and perhaps sung and recited history and culture instead of having it all written down. Circa 800 the Roman Catholic Empire/Church Christianized the area and provided or forced a political structure onto the local population. In 1648 the Swedes helped fight like Hell to make the area Protestant Christian instead of Catholic. It worked. The area has been Lutheran ever since. Somehow in the 1700s if not before something happened with the aristocracy which made the King of England and the Prince or King of Hanover the same exact person. Well, as England is Protestant – Ireland has managed to stay Catholic but here in Germany, British rule was intimately involved in the switch from Catholic to Protestant state religion.
This was one of those weekends where mothering was the apex of the time. It can be challenging to try to get across the importance of dailiness to people. In this case, I was able to spend nearly all of Saturday and much of Friday night in the same room as my teen.
Being a mother continues to be somehow both normal and strange. The ideas people have about how to be a mother, how to be oneself while being a mother – to be perfect: idealism and pressures to be perfectionistic or the instant martyr because of being a mother abound. “Now that you are a mother, just be a fountain of endless unconditional love and endless generously giving kindness.” Simple enough?!
Women hiding in bathrooms crying with the door locked, “OMG,” as mascara runs down the cheeks, “Is that really what they, or even I think I have to be like now?!”
Motherhood is truly rewarding and can be done as a spiritual path; it is a way to let go of selfishness, to cultivate unconditional love and the ideals mentioned above. It is also a review of everything you forgot because you outgrew it. Well, there it is again, only this time, one gets to deal with it as the adult. Sometimes its fun to parent, like when th kid/s are loving and cute and sometimes it isn’t like when someone has crap in their diaper or chucks a spoon across the room or sobs their guts out because you or the other parents went to work or someone hit another one of the children – or years and years of homework. Its just real life. This weekend, I enjoyed mothering my son. Thank God! or should that be God/ess?
Well, yesterday and today have been so cool and overcast that staying indoors has gained mass appeal.
This is an attempt to try blogging regularly again. I tried it before, but not much seemed to come of it so I gave up for a while, not entirely but mainly.
Dave Wiseheart, and Michelle Devon and Donna Castlegrant and Angela P. of Angie’s Diary all receive a humble “Honorable Mention” just for actually having managed to help me. Selfish? Perhaps, but true. Truthfully, I am impressed by how they came up with ways to help other authors and themselves as authors at the same time. It isn’t just them. There are many other writers, beyond myself, to whom I feel grateful and by whom I am impressed.
I don’t feel like this is a very impressive blog post.
This is a running joke between myself and my son. Wouldn’t this be easier if we could just email prayers and other messages to God and just check the forums for answers from God and to chat with other followers.
Was that a ghost?! Not sure? Don’t worry, just go to http://www.Supernaturalchatroom.com and ask there.
Today in real life, I’m hoping that “Occupy Wall Street” leads to flushing out any crooks heavily involved in the US Banking industry masquerading as legitimate leaders – they may be ‘high class’ but perhaps that’s a bias. When I was working as a gardener – which was actually one of the healthiest jobs I’ve ever had: my hair resumed a natural blonde it hadn’t seen since I was a 2 year old, I worked for wealthy people. My main boss told me that he had bothered to select people who were both morally good and wealthy. He told me that he’d met different ethical orientations amongst the upper classes just as the same diversity is found amongst the lower classes. This will be worth keeping in mind, and I don’t just mean the blond hair and fair wage.
No, I did not get rich overnight….in fact, I haven’t even earned my way back out of being poor. Thanks to the kindness and protection of others I have not been slammed into poverty because of writing for pay without either a good provider husband or a good day job: although I was educated to have the day job and spent some time as a woman with a half decent husband. Despite these hurdles and dependencies, sometimes I even get paid for doing my job.
The truth is that for people with Master’s degrees, or PDs with BS degrees, earning over $30,000 is pretty normal, even for women – at least in the USA, unless they’re/we’re home with little kids. Well, that makes a few hundred bucks a week ‘not much’….but for anyone who’s gone without a job, or had to provide everything for another, wow – a few hundred bucks a week really helps.
Today, I sent out care packages and “could still breathe even though I spent”. Its a very overcast, cool day in Germany. Wow, I’ve been paid for 3 months in a row so far to ghostwrite. The client is actually paying me $0.20/word to ghostwrite him a decent novel – it really is his idea, which is why he is the author and paying for the service. I told my son, truthfully, that this is work I don’t even feel ashamed to have done. I’ve had jobs I feel ashamed that I was denigrated enough to have to do, in the USA.
I hope nothing bad happens to me for being so direct and financially open. Naturally, I hope to God that I do very good work for this client and that I will be able to start getting book publishing contracts that come with advances and to get more decent paying work without whoever is paying acting like they have a claim on my soul – unless they’re good people protecting my soul instead of the usual exploitation that most people experience here or there sooner or later.
Yes, as a matter of fact, life is spiritual, and having meaningful work that doesn’t oppress people – either because of its effects or because of what it is like for the people to do, that is always a triumph of the spirit.
Yesterday’s blog post was a direct response to an article a woman posted which showed up in my Facebook News Feed. While at home this evening I was emailed and told someone had subscribed. Well, I was pleased and naturally curious – to my own surprise the subscriber turned out to be my father.
Well, last week I read a blog post about something another man did with his daughter: they forged a blade together. It was so good that I ended up posting a comment like “Wow,thanks Dad!” even though the father isn’t my Dad, but is a guy 1 year older than me who has published 10 novels so far – speaking of WOW.
I used to tell my father I am a writer while he watched the football game with his wife in the 2nd story of the house. “That’s nice Mirs,” he’d say. “If that’s what you are then write and succeed.” He was always encouraging but never offered any precise help. In some ways this was probably more helpful. My father and I often relate well but when we don’t its usually because we have totally different points to emphasize in the mountain range of our conversation. Thanks again for your show of support Dad.