The Hillhouse

The Journey of a Mother and Son

Woman of Oz July 27, 2013

When I write my posts, I sometimes remind myself of the Wizard of Oz. Or rather, the man behind the curtain pulling the levers and speaking into a mic. It’s an interesting feeling to sit in my comfy chair, alone in my room, ‘talking’ into the box on my lap. Feeling quite alone as I do (except for the constant crowing of roosters outside my window), it’s nearly impossible to realize I’m speaking to a group. And yet, luckily for me, I’m still able to do my thing, relatively unaffected by my growing and invisible audience. I had wondered recently if this might become challenging as time went on, but I’m happy to find that I can still tap into that universal mind and enjoy a line free of outside interference. As those who create will know, when things are going good and stuff is just coming to you, that’s a spiritual sweet spot. It’s kinda like getting in a canoe and joining the already moving water. Off you go… The trick here is not only knowing that I’m not exactly alone in my thoughts (nor would I want to be; the point of a blog is to share ideas), but that everyone in my life’s wake is privy to these thoughts and observations. Because of this, there are sometimes repercussions. But this is my life’s art for now, so on I go, broadcasting from my little chair behind the curtain.

Keeping one’s voice the same, without modifying its tone or exaggerating the day’s events when they seem a little too common, these are some of the challenges that face me. Thankfully, they aren’t affecting me at present, nor are they really concerning me. I’m surprised at this. Thought by now things might be getting trickier. You know, running out of ideas, becoming bored with what I already got goin. But I’m alright. My mind rolls up and down all day long as I tend to my outdoor work and I make mental notes to examine things more closely when my work is done. The biggest hitch in all of this is just remembering ideas later on. Guess that’s why writers take notes. I have a dry erase board in the kitchen, and a small pad in the car. If I’m lucky I’ll be near enough to one or the other that I’ll get something down in time. And while it aint Alzheimer’s yet, I forget far more than actually occurs to me – and this has me wondering sometimes if it’s not a foreshadowing of the fate awaiting me. But I’ll no doubt write about that chapter too when it descends on me. Cuz no matter how my aged years present themselves, whether it be memory loss or the inability to get around (hopefully neither!), that will be an entirely new adventure that will bring with it its own observations. And as long as I’m able to write, I’ll probably be letting you know exactly how I feel about things.

It seems that from the observations and ruminations I’ve published through these last few and difficult years, I have actually concluded the makings of what might be my first book. In this particular moment, my life has come to something of a stopping – and starting – point. Divorced, the ex married off, small farm chugging away, son just about in his pre-teen years… All of that, plus a recent little explosion of reaction to the blog on Facebook, and I think things are fairly tidily wrapped up. A period has been placed at the end of a long sentence. Life is by no means a static thing, and I am still grappling with some of the same challenges, but I feel a bit more confident these days, thanks to the most supportive readers and loving friends a gal could have. It strikes me as a bit ironic that at the ‘dreaded’ age of 50 my life is beginning again! I feel possibility now. As I watch the new garden outside my door begin to take shape and become real – all from the birth of my simple imaginings – so too I feel the birth of whole new future taking shape. I feel a little relief with the onset of this new chapter, too. A friend had suggested to me recently that this was the start of Elizabeth 2.0. I really like that. Nice way to welcome the new into my life, in all the forms it may yet assume. And with that, I’m think I’m done for now. Off to work in the garden. Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain! The great Oz has spoken…

 

4 Responses to “Woman of Oz”

  1. Lindy A. Says:

    At ten years older than you, several years ago I realized I now understand the saying “youth is wasted on the young.” I’m so much wiser, calmer and happier than when I was young and I was unencumbered by all the little irritations of being “older.”

    • wingmother Says:

      Kinda seems an even swap sometimes. The young have no clue, but they have the tools to enjoy things as we don’t (beauty, vigor, health, etc). And while we may not have all that stuff going for us, we get a little of that inner calm unknown to them. Yeah, sour grapes maybe. I admit it would be pretty sweet having ALL of those things going on in one package, and at one time. !! But I’m working on appreciating what I DO have to the best of my ability. Onward….

  2. Eric Says:

    You have certainly been doing some thoughtful and involving writing these last few years with this blog. I use the word “involving”, because much of what you write connects to similar experiences and emotions that we the readers have gone through at different times. In this way, you involve us in your narrative. You certainly have a good writing voice, and you project many different tones as the different moods of your posts have invoked. Just as in singing, good writing has wide range of tones and styles. The writer expresses the soft melodies of thoughtful observation, while at other times, the writer has to “belt it out”, expressing sore emotions in sometimes harsh terms. As your departed friend said, you’ve got to “…’spress yourself!”, and you have been doing that quite well.

    It’s interesting that you made that comparison to Oz behind the curtain. A few years back, when reading the original “Oz” book, aloud to my kids, we found the characters faced the “wizard” separately, and that he expressed himself differently to different characters. It was only in one of his presentations that he used the image of the fearsome flaming giant green head that we remember from the movie. Sorry, I can’t remember what his other manifestations were- I’ll have to go look it up in the book later. The point is that the wizard became different things to different people, and that is sort of what might be happening here on your online journal. Because you write of so many different aspects of life, from the worst moments to the lighter, more whimsical observations of people and birds, you will probably get different types of reactions from different people.

    Don’t worry about what might appear to be inconsistancies in your writing voice. None of us are perfect, so there isn’t anyone around who is absolutely consistant, anyway. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and you are sure to come up with a great many more worthwhile posts that are worth reading and thinking about. You can always go through the text of all this and edit the best passages into a book or two. You certainly have some good material to go through. Because of the contrasting subjects you write of here, it might end up looking like a crazy quilt, but you certainly have some good material to work with. Best wishes for it to all work out well.

    • wingmother Says:

      Hey thanks, Eric. I so appreciate the energetic support. I agree, there are many subjects contained here, and assembling them in a cohesive way for book format is my biggest challenge. It’s a little daunting, but I think it’ll work out. As usual, you’re a sweetie to be so kind and thoughtful in your comments.


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