Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Getting up to Feed The Children (Tara Taylor Quinn)

I was going through a time of personal struggle some years ago and wandered into an independent bookstore here in the Phoenix valley. My spirit was weary. My heart hurting. I needed comfort and peace. Stepping into that store gave me a small burst of strength. Taking positive action - placing myself among the books that I love - was the first step. As I opened the door to the store, my heart door opened. Almost immediately I noticed a cardboard 'dump' holding a book, The Invitation, with a sign saying autographed copy. I had no goal, other than to be among books, so I walked over and opened the cover of the book.

My life changed that night. I changed. From the inside out. I stood in the store and read enough to know I had to have that book. I bought it. Took it to the residence where I was staying. Ran a bath. Lit candles. Put on a CD I had also purchased in that store that night - Voices of the Feminine Spirt - and I found the pieces of me that I had lost through years of living. I found my spirit - the me I hadn't listened to enough.

It's been about fourteen years since I found that book. Since I purchased that CD. And they are still as potent to me now as they were then. Voices of the Feminine Spirit is one of my two 'go to' discs when I'm struggling in a book. It takes me in deep every time. And The Invitation...I have it in my office, but more, I have it in my head. This morning, as I got up, a bit headachy, with a book due, promo due, line edits due, and bills that will be coming due, I started to dip a bit, and then a voice in my mind told me that I had to get up to feed the children.

My daughter is raised. And while, yes, the furr babies needed to eat, this wasn't about food. It was about knowing that there is always more out there than our own worries and stresses and problems. There is someplace where we are needed. Something we can accomplish to help someone else. We have a choice in life. We can make our worlds all about us. Dwell in our muck. Or we can find the strength, in spite of the bad day, to feed the children.

I'm not saying that I don't dwell now and then. Most of do, now and then. As a writer, I think I tend to wallow in the dwelling sometimes because feeling drama, portraying it, is my life's work. But I made a conscious choice a long time ago to be a children feeder. The choice is a part of me. And when I start to dwell, that choice is there, within me, reminding me who I want to be. This is the power of the choices we make.

If you'd like to come along with me on my journey to feed the children, just follow along!


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Kate Morey said...

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Enjoy your time!

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