Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

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I Quit

February 24, 2020 By Sandra Heska King

I quit.

I came by here for a visit and found it’s been six months, almost seven, since I’ve strung any words together in this space.

Because I quit.

I keep getting new visitors, though. And views on my Facebook page–where I haven’t posted in the same amount of time.

Because I quit.

Actually, does it really matter? Is anyone reading blogs any more?

(By the way, I *have* continued to share a few (very few) words on Instagram along with photos, so I’d love if you’d follow along over there. The photo stream is down on the right, but you have to click for the text.)

This morning I climbed on the scales and discovered I’d gained back the 11 pounds I’d lost before I flew to Michigan in May for my sister’s wedding and then two weeks later to help care for the grand girl after her accident.

I’d quit regular walking and paid less attention to what I was putting in my mouth. I ate more Grace food. Read that as multiple DQ® Blizzards (Turtle Pecan Cluster and Chocolate-Covered Strawberry) and Totino’s® frozen Party Pizzas, just for starters. Don’t judge. Then my daughter got married here in Florida on Anna Maria Island in October–a destination wedding that Tropical Storm Nestor decided to crash. We flew back to Michigan for Thanksgiving, and then celebrated Christmas with our son and his extended family where diet food does not abound. His father-in-law is a fantabulous cook. It’s a blessing and a curse.



Come the new year, I vowed to get a grip. I organized various journals to start putting words on the page again. But even my One Line a Day journal hasn’t seen a pencil mark since January 14. I’ve tackled some projects hit and miss and find that it’s taking me longer to do anything. Like it took two days to clean and reorganize the master bathroom cupboards. We’re talking just the cabinets under the two sinks. That included going through old makeup and tossing some–but adding more because I was enamored with my mother-of-the-bride look. The grand girl suggested I buy a Morphe® eyeshadow palette like the cool kids, and the gal at Ulta who waxed my face helped me pick out an eyeliner–something I haven’t worn in forever. She helped me choose one that I could handle so I wouldn’t end up looking like the littlest grand scribbled on my eyelids. I’m still dreaming of false eyelashes. Mine didn’t blow off like some in the bridal party, but I digress. I also bought this nifty storage container for my nail polishes since I’ve started doing my own nails again.

Also, I’ve spent way too much time trying to clean and reorganize my office so I could get back to feeling like a writer.

I thought maybe I was slowing down and feeling sluggish and procrastinating because, after all I, *did* turn 71 last month. But I suppose it could have something to do with the scale. So after I threw a little fit, I drank a bunch of water and tied on my walking shoes. I even did something new–stuck some buds in my ears and caught up on a podcast. I don’t listen to many podcasts and never on a regular basis. Normally, I just listen to the sounds around me, stopping often to snap a picture. Today I didn’t pause even once in all the two miles. Funny, I finished faster than I usually do, too.

Lo and behold, as I began to near the end of my walk, some dam in my brain broke, and I got a flood of ideas. Thus how I ended up back here. I’m going to try to write a little in this space again. Probably not regularly, and probably not with any kind of a schedule. I’ve come to accept that schedules don’t work so well for me. Or I don’t work so well with them. So I might just be writing off the cuff, stream of consciousness stuff. Kind of journaling, I guess, seeing as how I can’t seem to keep up very well with paper and pen. Maybe I’ll tackle a writing or poetry prompt here, write a book review, recite a poem, or just jabber a little about what’s happening in my life or about what I’m learning. I’m also going to work at updating some of the extra stuff here. I mean if I’m going to keep paying Fistbump to manage this space, I ought to play in it a little, right?

Speaking of my walk, I listened to several episodes of The Slowdown with Tracy K. Smith, past U.S. Poet Laureate. In her introduction to episode 325, she said:

“To everyone who lives with the fear of poetry, relax. You don’t always have to understand it. You can let it nudge you. Let it cause something to stir–the sounds of words gliding along next to one another, the glimpse of an image . . . I don’t always understand the poems I admire. Sometimes poems operate by a logic that eludes me . . . Sometimes, like a conversation with a curious stranger, a poem speaks to me in words I know, but it leads me down paths that are startling and unfamiliar. Some poems seem to carry me away from my usual self . . .”

It reminded me of something L.L. Barkat wrote for Tweetspeak Poetry last week in a piece called, Poems From the Coffee Shop–Matcha and a Blessing For the Exhausted. She wrote:

“Not every poem in the EDP subscription will bring a person joy, but sometimes poems come into our lives to bring us other things: insight, peace, a pause, a breath. It’s not necessary to get any of these things every time we read a poem. It’s enough to sometimes get just the thing we didn’t know we were looking for. This thing might stay with us, far past the reading.”

I didn’t know I needed any of those words, but apparently I did, because here I am writing them down. I’m letting them sink in. Maybe you need them, too.

So the plan is to come back and write again in this space. I don’t know when or what or how often. Knowing myself, it could be sporadic. And knowing myself, I know I could find myself suddenly cleaning under the kitchen sink. And knowing myself, that could take a day or two once I start. [Insert eye roll here.]

But also I know this about myself. I may shift priorities, slow down, or speed up, but…

I don’t quit.









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Filed Under: Blog, stories and reflections

Comments

  1. Robin says

    February 24, 2020 at 5:37 pm

    Same. Totally. Especially the procrastivity part.

    • Sandra Heska King says

      February 24, 2020 at 6:02 pm

      Yeah, ouch. Also, why do the days go by so fast?

  2. L.L. Barkat says

    February 24, 2020 at 6:51 pm

    Ohhhh. I love this! 🙂

    It makes me happy to read your words.

    • Sandra Heska King says

      February 24, 2020 at 9:28 pm

      I feel like I might be coming out of my stupor. I hope it lasts. 🙂

  3. Martha J Orlando says

    February 25, 2020 at 10:54 am

    I’m so, so glad to see you back here, Sandra!!! You have been so missed, my friend. Sporadic or not, I’ll be looking forward to all your future reflections. (And yes, I needed those words about poetry.)
    Blessings!

    • Sandra Heska King says

      February 25, 2020 at 12:27 pm

      Thanks so much for popping in, Martha. You are such an encouragement to so many!

  4. Laurie Klein says

    February 25, 2020 at 12:32 pm

    Oh Sandy, yes, my thoughts and emotions about family and career hopes and a stalled writing life are chiming right alongside yours, in my psyche and in my story. Thank you for writing this. I am grateful and encouraged by your candor and humor, glad to gather in your imagery, words, and the quotes as well. A gift on this mysterious Shrove Tuesday. Maybe I’ll go make pancakes. 🙂

    • Sandra Heska King says

      February 26, 2020 at 9:45 am

      Oh, I was so focused on pazcki that I forgot about pancakes. I especially like prune pazcki, but I didn’t stumble on any. I didn’t look very hard or that would have been disastrous–and nudged those scales up a little more. My sister, however, was making her own. Thank goodness she lives 1000+ miles away!

      Thanks for coming by, Laurie. You are a gift. Big hugs to you on this Ash Wednesday.

      Now I think I’ll make some day-late pancakes.

  5. Lorretta Stembridge says

    February 25, 2020 at 2:41 pm

    Oh Dit, Dit… ditto. <3

    • Sandra Heska King says

      February 26, 2020 at 9:45 am

      Ha! Glad for another oar in this boat. 😉

  6. Carol J. Garvin says

    February 25, 2020 at 2:43 pm

    I’m so glad to find you here again. It was about this time last year that you were posting more often, then it petered out, and I’ve missed your words. My own blog went from multiple regular posts each week to irregular monthly ones, but I haven’t quit either.

    I recognize that my perspective has changed through the years. As I age, my energy level has decreased, and often my desires overreach my ambition. But I’m content. I’ve accepted that I have limitations that didn’t exist a decade-or-so ago and, while I don’t enjoy the arthritis, I do enjoy the different pace it requires me to take. I see more, think more, daydream more even while I achieve less. It’s requires some mental balancing and readjusting. I’m reaching a period in my life when striving is giving over to more reflection. And that’s okay. I think it has a lot to do with self-acceptance. I’m no longer struggling to be someone that I’m not and am thoroughly enjoying the exploration of the ‘me’ God created.

    Hmm, it seems your post generated some introspection of my own. LOL.

    • Sandra Heska King says

      February 26, 2020 at 9:55 am

      Reading and re-reading your words here, Carol. I love when you introspect and share your wisdom. It’s a good thing to lean into this season. I think I’m more content than not, too, though still a little frustrated with myself. I guess that’s okay, too. It keeps me on my toes. My great Aunt Emma (the nun) always cautioned me in her twice-a-year-notes to slow down, to not try to do so much at once. I was in high school then. I think she might be proud of me now. 🙂

  7. Carolyn Counterman says

    February 25, 2020 at 11:05 pm

    Somehow, I found this all very surprising. I mean, I knew many of the details, but not that quitting or not was an issue. For instance, I haven’t quit writing in my one-line-a-day journal. I just don’t know where it is. I wonder if I am fooling myself, or if quitting is a concept that doesn’t mean much to me anymore. 🤔

    • Sandra Heska King says

      February 26, 2020 at 9:59 am

      “I just don’t know where it is.” That made me laugh!

      I wonder if FB posts count? Maybe I can reconstruct a line from those in my journal.

      Your life doesn’t allow much room for quitting. But I do hope you find some room to rest. Thanks for coming by, sis. Love you big!

  8. Donna Falcone says

    February 27, 2020 at 4:26 am

    Smiling…. happy you’re unstucking. It’s a terrible feeling, to be stuck, but maybe it serves us more than it takes away. ❤️ Turn turn turn(ing pages is rarely what we expect), and a time to every purpose…. we’ll you know the rest. 😉

    • Sandra Heska King says

      February 28, 2020 at 8:58 am

      I’m hoping the glue is coming loose from this sticky season. 🙂

  9. Kenda says

    February 28, 2020 at 7:40 pm

    Glad to know you haven’t quit! I haven’t commented much on your blog through the years but have checked in regularly. I went through Dave Harrity’s “Making Manifest” book because of your influence, always enjoyed your “Still Saturday” posts, and have enjoyed your discussions about poetry, to name a few ways you’ve blessed the blogging world. Just thought you’d like to know… 🙂

  10. Sandra Heska King says

    February 28, 2020 at 11:04 pm

    Oh Kenda. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much!

    Also, I have Dave’s book pulled out to review some notes for another project I’m working on. That was an awesome study.

    Thanks so much for checking in and letting me know. You made my day!

  11. Susie says

    March 28, 2020 at 11:17 am

    I stumbled upon this when looking up information about blue birds of happiness. Hi mom, who passed away in 2006, loved and ladybugs and bluebirds. My brother and I often see ladybugs, often in places you would never think. Yesterday, while on a hike w a friend, it was blustery and cold, and I thought wouldn’t it be cool if I saw a ladybug? Especially at this time in our world. Mom did even better, and shared two blue birds with my friend and I. My heart swelled and I felt comforted. Sometimes even at age 49 you just need a “hug” from your mom. What an added treasure she tucked away in the sighting by taking me to your blog. Thank you 🐦☀️💖 – Susie

    • Sandra Heska King says

      April 5, 2020 at 8:48 am

      Hi Susie,

      I’m always intrigued to find out how new friends find their way over here. I remember the posts about our bluebirds. I haven’t seen one since we moved to Florida, but I just checked the refuge where we often walk and noticed that they have been seen there in the winter. I will have to be more alert when we go walking there.

      What a sweet “hug” from your mom to share some bluebirds with you. I’m glad it brought you this way.

      • Susie says

        April 6, 2020 at 1:40 pm

        Hope you see your own bluebird! 🙂 Susie

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Cutting tonight’s walk short. Stupid blue jay. N Cutting tonight’s walk short. Stupid blue jay. Not this one. A different one. But still. (My niece believes blue jays are a visitation from Grandma—my mom.) 
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https://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2016/07/27/regional-tour-holocaust-memorial-center-farmington-hills-michigan/
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