When One Door Closes . . .

Today I was searching for a way to get my poetry copyrighted and published. I have had a few poems published several years ago. I sort of stopped writing a few times, then start again. I keep putting it on the back burner. Why is it the one thing sometimes we so love to do, we just can’t seem to find the time to do? Not everybody. My life has seemed to keep me from doing the one thing I love to do most.

 

About six years ago, my husband and I moved to New York from St. Louis. We were living this much slower pace of a life. We were off work by 5pm, and home by 5:15.  It was sort of mundane. Since we are both recovering addicts, we attended 12-step meetings a couple of times a week, we helped his mother out sometimes, visited other relatives, and you get the drift. Nothing exciting in our lives. One day, my husband said, “Babe, I want to be certified in the field I am in (he works in Orthopedics).  Well, there were several choices for locations. Two of those choices happen to be in much warmer climates. He said to the person he eventually accepted the job offer from and he also said to me that if this is meant to be there will be no confusion surrounding this move. He was right of course.  Two of those other choices were in the path of the Hurricane Katrina.

 

Since we made the move to New York, our lives have become extremely busy and very time consuming with commuting. It took some time to adjust.  Once you learn navigating the subway system here, you can travel anywhere. It is really not feasible to drive in Manhattan in the downtown areas, so I took the subway to my first job. Since my husband worked uptown, he could use the car and it benefited him due to the hours he was working. It would take him almost 2hours by train.

 

Now living here also meant that I had no time to do anything but get up at 4:45 am and go to bed at 11pm every night. On the weekends meant doing errands and chores I had no time for during the week. I all but forgot how to manage any of my time. I couldn’t figure out why I was so fatigued all the time. My doctor sent me to a specialist who diagnosed me with a connective tissue disease.  To make a long story short, in the coming months about two years into living here I was let go from my first job in New York.  There is that when one door closes….

 

 

I made the most of it, and a friend/colleague of my husband introduced me to someone who was looking for someone who needed an assistant to work from home. Although this still didn’t afford me the opportunity to still get back into my passion of writing, I was employed again. It lasted about six months and I went back to work part-time.

 

I never really disliked what I was doing, I just had no passion for it. I could feel myself being drawn to what I truly loved most. I was writing more and more almost daily now. It all began sometime in 2009. I can almost pinpoint when it happened. One might say I am crazy, but I am not. There are people who would understand this because a lot of these same people experience it too. See, I am also a Michael Jackson fan and I am not ashamed to admit that. When Michael died, it hit me really hard. I didn’t think it would affect me that way. It still does. One thing it did was to awaken again in me that creative part of me and that desire I had for wanting to be the best me I can be. When Michael sings about the Man in the Mirror, he makes me want to change who I am. I have listened to the words of the music and he makes me feel everything about who I am, he makes me take a look at myself.

 

I again got hit with a layoff, due to the recession, and there is that closed-door again. I was reading a post from twitter about not staring at the closed-door, but moving on. Now I am looking for new doors, or windows to be opened. I signed up for a poetry class today. I didn’t sign up because I don’t think my poetry isn’t good enough. I did it because I want to be the best me I can be. There is nothing wrong with perfecting my craft. When I got honest about what it is I really want to do, I realized it was to write. It is my passion. It is the one thing I would do no matter what. It has always been. I can’t let fear get in the way of that. No matter what.

I want to open the new doors…

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