Losing myself in love

I know what you’re thinking…another blog post about being in love. Well folks, sorry but that’s not what this is…exactly. I mean, yay for love and all that jazz, but I’m talking about passion. All consuming, gut wrenching, can’t stop thinking about it passion. Again, not what you’re thinking about, but I’ll explain in more detail.

Did you ever have a desire to do one thing so much that it muted every other distraction in your life? Phones ringing, social media dinging, kids fighting, spouses squawking, bills assaulting you through snail mail, annoying neighbors…just about everything else aside from your one true love? Or loves??

I honestly don’t know how many other people there are like this. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love my family more than anything else in the world. I love my friends. I love the feeling of endorphins rushing in when I exercise…yes exercise, we may not be as close as we once were but we will be again one day, I promise. And I love the beach…I really love the beach, we have a thing…

But my passion lies in the arts. Writing, painting, drawing, photographing, crafting, cooking. (Yes, I consider cooking a delectable art form!) And not just in the spectator form, although I could do that non-stop as well. But in the active participation…I get lost in it. Completely and utterly lost. And I love that feeling. Love. Love. Love. Getting lost in my craft allows me escape. To transcend this existence and become lost in another. It is a feeling that is close to immeasurable. It is euphoric and draining, and everything that makes me feel alive.

I don’t write, paint, draw, craft, or even cook every day. Shhhh…don’t speak on the cooking thing with my husband…lol. He would love it if I were chained to the stove with an apron and a spatula, whipping up the next delectable foodgasm to go into his tummy, but I digress…lol. Even though I don’t do the things I love everyday, the things that fill me to overflowing with passion, it doesn’t mean that I don’t think about doing them everyday. It doesn’t mean that I don’t have years worth of half finished stories squirreled away, journals collecting dust filled with years of angsty poetry, stacks of drawings and paintings piled in the back of a closet, bags of craft odds and ends strewn to the far corners of the house, and scrumptious cookbooks creating themselves in the chaos that is my mind.

What I do have is more like a fire. A fire that burns in me so intensely that the rest of the world falls aways for a few blessed hours. Often I have a tendency to get lost in my art when I finally allow myself to commit to whatever craft has summoned my muse.

Without a doubt, of all my loves, writing and painting are the top contenders for my affection. I find myself painting or furiously typing away for hours on end…neglecting practically everything else that needs attending to. It is my happy place. Mentally anyway. Physically my happy place is on the beach. Any beach. Winter, spring, summer, fall. The season doesn’t matter. Just the ocean air and the waves crashing on the shore. My refuge from the harsh realities that are this world.

When I finally commit to my love, I am lost to the world for a few blissful hours. Some, like our doctor friends, might call it mania. But I call it love. These are some of my favorite moments in life.

When a story pulls me in and won’t let me go. When a painting requires me to spend hours on a detail that no one else will ever see. When the food hits my tongue and my pleasure receptors express themselves as a moan that is audible for anyone to hear. This is what I love. This is who I am. This is passion. This is my passion.

What we do when we are lost to the world is our passion. Our loves. What do you love and how often do you allow yourself to do it? My oldest son has a habit of being very profound and insightful. He will see me struggling mentally with some issue that won’t matter when I am dead and gone and will ask me seemingly randomly “Mom, when was the last time you did something that made you happy?” or “Mom, why don’t you go do something you love instead sitting there being upset?” and it’s in these moments that I see his profound greatness. His ability to break down the arguments in my head to go do something I love. For me. For them. For anyone who crosses my path.

So again, I ask you. What do you love and how often do you allow yourself to do it? Life is too short to be angry, upset, or anxious all the time. Listen to your muse and let it come out to play. You, and everyone who loves you, might just be thankful for the gift you are giving to not only yourself, but to them as well.

We are more in tune with ourselves when we allow ourselves to love. Be it people. Or passions. Just take some time to lose yourself in love.

Peace and love,

Angie

I see a gluten-free future

Today has been enlightening. My husband and I have always joked about him constantly saying he’s choking when he’s eating. We knew he had GERD (Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease: stomach acid flows backwards up into the esophagus) and had attributed his constant regurgitation of meals to that. But lo and behold, it turns out he has Schatzki’s Ring and Celiac Disease.

Apparently Schatzki’s Ring can be a subsequent complication due to long-term GERD which causes both chronic inflammation and damage to the lower esophagus. Over time, as the damage heals, it forms a scar that is identified as Schatzki’s Ring which causes a narrowing of the lower esophagus that results in dysphagia (difficulty swallowing). Basically the food gets stuck in his throat when he swallows.

Can you imagine how frightening that is?

Finding my center in the midst of my daily existential crisis

Every day I have a million thoughts running through my head. I used to journal but oddly felt guilty. Is that even normal? Who feels guilty for writing down their own thoughts? I guess I do because I have always felt guilty about my feelings on some deeply ingrained level. Like I should always rise above my anger, fear, dejection, humiliation, sadness and should not boast about my happiness or successes. But why do I feel that way?

I always circle back around to my faith. I was raised as a devout Catholic along with all of the stereotypical old-fashioned Catholic guilt that went along with it. I am not trying to get anyone’s panties in a twist. I am just explaining it the way it happened to me. Warts and all.

To second guessing our writing and tropical beaches

I got a solid two hours of writing and editing done this morning. Just hit over 21k words on the second installment of my Toxicity series. I am liking the twists and turns it is taking. When I start to worry about whether the readers will enjoy the ever twisting storyline, or rather the intersecting ever twisting storyline, I have to stop myself and remember the advice I read a long time ago…that I should write what I would want to read, not what I think the reader wants to hear.

Surgery Sucks…and life goes on.

Well, here I am six days post op and finally able to think a bit more clearly. The pain is still constant but I can think (and type) through the pain finally. I wrote some yesterday for the first time in over a week and am happy with the way the story is going. It’s taking a more alternative or supernatural bend and I like it. Hopefully you will too.

Most of my days have been spent trying to hobble to the bathroom and move my ankle without grimacing in pain. I have succeeded at the first, not so much the second. After having two kids, ankle/leg surgery, acl and meniscus knee repair surgery, and now this ankle/leg surgery again, I still have to say that the knee was the worst. This sucks. Don’t get me wrong. But the knee definitely sucked worse. The worst part about this is the pain everytime I breathe. But enough about my lingering leg issues.

I want to bring light to the recent semicolon tattoo movement. I am utterly enamored with anything that sheds a loving light on the daily struggles people have with mental health.

Working on new material and prepping for surgery (Eeeek!)

So, I am plodding along working on the second installment in the Toxicity series and preparing to have ankle surgery on Tuesday! (Agghh!) I hate surgery. But I need to get the hardware in my ankle/leg removed. A bunch of screws, pins, and a long plate. My body never accepted the alien material very well. It’s been in there for twelve long years and it has been painful since day one! Literally. I have not gone one day without my ankle swelling and in pain. I am excited and nervous at the same time. I always think I am going to die whenever I go under the knife. I know. Morbid. But, I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not, right?!? Wish me luck!

Toxicity: Volume 1 ~a novella

I’m so excited that my first novella, Toxicity: Volume 1 (a novella) is finally out!  I hope you enjoy it and will check out the second installment which should be completed shortly. Below is the description of the book. Right now you can find it on Amazon for Kindle, but it should be available on other platforms soon! Sign up to get notifications of the second book in the series and upcoming announcements about new books.

Lacey Fagyn has spent her life running from her past.

Growing up neglected and afraid has murdered her innocence and left her with severe trust and anxiety issues. Lacey struggles to overcome her past and create a quiet normal life for herself but she cannot escape her memories of being pulled into a cult as a teenager as they continue to come back to haunt her nightly. She finds that trying to forget your past and actually succeeding are two entirely different things.