Reader, Writer, Merciless Reviewer and Incurable Romantic
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I am completely lost. This may have something to do with waking up at 2:15 a.m. after barely three hours' sleep. I tried for almost four additional hours to go back to sleep, but it didn't work, so here I am trying to sort through my notes to bring my Festive Season activities up to date.
For Square #9, a task for the Winter Solstice is to ask a question, then open a book to page 40, line 9.
My question was broad and vague, but it is also the reason I have lost so much sleep lately: How am I going to get through the next year, financially as well as mentally?
I pondered and pondered which book to pick and finally, after taking the dogs outside, settled on Women Who Run with the Wolves. I bought the book when it was first published in 1992 -- it even says "First Edition" whoo hoo! -- and have read most of it in segments, but have never sat down and read the whole thing through first page to last.
Page 40, line 9, is the middle of a thought:
". . .severs the woman from her intuitive nature. When its cutting work is done . . . "
The passage refers to patriarchal control of women, in particular the "predatory potentate" archetype who does the cutting that severs the woman from her intuitive nature. Gee, is that relevant to this particular Solstice, or what?
I've felt for most of the past 20 years or so that I've been cut off from my "intuitive nature," and the past dozen years or so that I've been in little more than survival mode. Last year, 2016, was the first time I felt more at ease emotionally than I have in a long time, and I know very well that the reason for that was my writing. After writing and publishing The Looking-Glass Portrait, I tried to get into another writing project right away, but too many external factors kept intruding. Those external factors dominated my 2017 attempts to write, as well as virtually everything else.
Whatever I do to address these issues in 2018, I'm going to try my best not to be cut off from the person I really am. I can't be someone else, and especially not for someone else. I have to be me, for me.