Dizzy retrospection

I do wish the world would stop spinning.

Some force inside my head swirls the waters in a fashion reminiscent of those rides at the fair I have only ever regretted trying. Ugh.

My troubles started Monday, when my digestive system decided I’d not treated it well over the weekend. No one else here had problems, so I can only conclude, as I’ve done in the past, that being minus a gall bladder, appendix, and a snippet of intestine does make a difference sometimes. Not that I’m complaining in terms of those medical procedures which at three different times no doubt saved my life.

Yesterday my tummy felt as though it had been turned off – not bad, just not at all hungry. For me, a truly strange occurrence. So I ate very little and slept a lot. Today a few hunger pangs returned, and I tried to force the food a bit, wishing for energy. Eating seemed to work, except now I’m a dizzy dame. Weird. My ears are fine, and isn’t it supposed to be fluid in the ear that when sloshed causes dizziness? Oh, well.

While hoping for returned equilibrium tomorrow, I’m thinking back on things. I’ve reread my past year’s journal – it always provides fresh perspective. And maybe my odd physical state contributes, but I sense myself having adjusted to a degree to what I’m doing. Like a person in the “real” world going to work every day, finally gaining confidence within the sphere of a new job.

Throughout my writing venture there’ve been several phases. I journaled and flung words onto paper regarding various subjects for many years. Then I tried to build a writing space and set aside regular literary moments. My schedule’s success waxed and waned when the kids were young.

I only made progress toward publication after learning how to send query letters to editors. This provided an outlet for my ideas, which sometimes drew interest and led to published articles. My method for finishing assignments utilized adrenaline, as I sprinted toward a deadline, letting household and motherly duties slide for short spans, often exasperating the rest of my family. But I’m glad they let me dive off the deep end once in a while. It was exciting.

Somewhere near last year’s beginning I began a transition into more steady writing, for the sake of eventual publication, yes, but mainly for myself. I’m in that reimagining, reinventing phase people speak of. But like many transitions, this one’s knocked me off my feet more than once, twirled me dizzy sometimes in my emotions.

I remember nearly three decades ago my first months working at a Krispy Kreme in Charleston, South Carolina. Details of serving coffee, boxing up doughnuts in baker’s dozen increments and filling orders for schools at the conveyor belt made me dizzy sometimes. I wondered if I’d ever catch on and keep up. At last things came together in my head. I could banter with good ol’ boys at the coffee counter, box a few iced crullers with sodas to go, and find time to linger long enough in back for a fresh raised doughnut before rushing out front to replenish napkins.

Today I feel I’m catching on to the structure of writing that may suit me best. My morning writing shift is solid, Monday through Friday, averaging two hours. Sometimes I’ll do an overtime Saturday (though time-and-a-half pay is lacking so far).

I’ve completed a few projects, including a new course proposal that I sent to Lane Community College and had accepted for fall term. In my class, called Market Those Musings, I’ll instruct beginners to work their ideas into saleable forms as I did, hoping this will springboard their writing lives, as well.

My current project-in-process excites me, and yet it’s really just part of my job, as are rejections and writer group gatherings and once in a blue moon checks in the mail. I’m working on a book, a spiritual memoir. Finally it’s reached a stage where I share chapters of it at different critique sessions. The value of input from other creative souls can’t be easily measured. And unlike the novel I started last year, this preborn book is holding its own under criticism.

I’d love to share the collaborative process here on the blog, but concerns about publication issues restrain me. If I know you in three-dimensional space, though, beware. I may ask you to read and give feedback sometime this summer.

Now I guess I’ll sip some Sprite and list off to bed. Thanks for any steadying thoughts you can send this direction. Sorry if you experience sudden doughnut cravings.