Skip to main content

The Time Has Come...


“‘The time has come, the Walrus said,

To talk of many things:

Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—

Of cabbages—and kings—

And why the sea is boiling hot—

And whether pigs have wings.’" 

-Alice in Wonderland


When I was a kid we lived out in the sticks and only had a used VCR with a handful of tapes that my grandfather had recorded from his cable channels.  Several of those tapes had been recorded over his old porn movies, something we did not discover until middle school.  Yikes! That is a story for another time. One of the kid-friendly movies he had recorded for us was Alice in Wonderland.  I must have watched that movie 500 times.


The time has come to talk of many things…At least that is what I should have written when I pushed the pause button on this blog in 2015.  I loved writing it, and I’m not sure why I stopped now.  Except that life was complicated and I had a two, a seven, and a ten-year-old I was trying desperately to care for while navigating chronic pain and chronic financial struggle with very little extended family support.  I think of myself back then, and I want to give that young woman a huge hug and hold her hand and listen to all she was struggling with…the guilt, the trials, the pain, the feelings of inadequacy, the longing to do something great, the struggle to just survive the day, and the regret.  


I have thought of this blog many times in the last 10 years.  Few people read my blog back then, but that wasn't really why I was doing it.  I wrote it because I needed a space to have a voice. I needed to feel like my perspective had a place. I needed to see that I still had space for me and that I still had something unique to offer the world.


I am now teaching kindergarten, and I find I have so many stories flowing out of my heart, and I have people who want to hear them.  Mostly five and six-year-olds, but I also have a married son going into the Air Force, a son in college studying to be an Engineer, and a son in 8th grade with dreams of his own.  All of them have asked me to finish the stories I started when they were young.  I also have students who look at me in complete mesmerization when I tell them a story I’ve concocted for them.  Then say things like, “I hope you are going to make this story into an audiobook for me,” with true sincerity and excitement.  How can I say no?


There are very few moments when teaching 22 squirrely kindergarteners that you have everyone’s full attention.  I find it’s nearly always when I’m telling a story.  Not reading a story, but telling one.  There is a difference.  My soul is in its happy place, watching those faces.


I am a writer who needs an audience in order to write.  Or at least I need to believe I have one, even if it is a fictional one.  If I am ever stuck on a deserted island by myself, I think I will "start a podcast" with a coconut audience and a palm tree for my camera. This is how I'll stay sane. I can’t write to the great oblivion.  I need specifics.  I need to feel like I am connecting with another human soul.


As I turn half a century old in five days, and am finally operating in a space with much less pain most days, I desire to live life in a way I couldn’t before.  I have a small window of time with significantly less pain (as my doctors tell me that after 60, things will get bad again).  I do not want to waste these moments.  It’s now or never, but if the doctors happen to be wrong, I’ll happily take whatever extra I get.  In the meantime, I want to seize my opportunity.  I want to be disciplined enough to write all the things on my heart and in my head.  I want to leave a legacy of thoughts for my kids, grandkids, and students.  


I am compelled to take up this blog and write again.  It has patiently waited for me all of these years. 


So, the time has come, once again, for me to talk of many things…of shoes and ships and sealing wax…of cabbages and kings…doesn’t that sound delightful?


Kristen




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Elvis and The Lord's Supper

The “King” is dead.    We got home from vacation to discover the disturbing news that Elvis, our rooster, was savagely taken by a coyote.   All that remained of him was a few drops of blood and a pile of his beautiful tail feathers.   We were all in denial.   We walked our property calling for him.   We tried luring him with food scraps.   We waited to see if he would make his way into the coop for the night.   He never did.    That night, as we toasted to my husband’s 40 th Birthday with sparkling cider,  Thing 1 calls out, “And to Elvis, the bravest rooster alive...or dead. I guess, " and we had a moment of silence for the sacrifice he made for his hens.  All of us knew what kind of rooster he was.   He was big and regal.   He had gorgeous, clean white feathers with a bit of silver around his neck and in his tail.   He reminded us of “The King of Rock' n Roll” in his famous white and silver jumpsuit, henc...

Go. Heal Thyself, Girl!

Go.   Heal Thyself, Girl! A story of personal healing Ever since I gave birth to Thing 1 I’ve struggled with slouching.   I figured it was a combination of things;     engorged breasts, that would have won money in a wet t-shirt contest, muscle fatigue from holding a well fed baby, and stomach muscles that had been stretched beyond reason.   Two more babies and nine more years under my belt and I’m still struggling with slouching.   In fact it’s been getting worse.   For at least the last year and a half I’ve been consciously trying to fix the problem.   I check in with myself regularly throughout the day, “Am I slouching?   Yes!   Stop that!” I’ve been working on my core trying to bolster those muscles and give my shoulders a break.   All to no avail.   What is my problem?   I was a dancer for heaven sake.   Dancers don’t slouch!   They have lovely posture (and small breasts, I might a...

Book Review: Good Pictures, Bad Pictures

Good Pictures, Bad Pictures Porn-Proofing Today's Kids   Two years ago when my then six and nine year old boys were inadvertently exposed to pornography by a neighbor boy I dove into educating myself on this topic.   Despite my best efforts to protect them from this exact type of thing, I had failed.   My heart was broken, yet I was determined to do what I needed to in order to help them through this.   According to Internetsaftey101.com seven out of ten youth have accidentally come across pornography online and American children begin consuming hardcore pornography at an average age of 11.   On top of that four out of five 16 year olds view pornography on a regular basis.   Fight the New Drug claims they often get emails from six year olds sharing about their addictions to porn. These are frightening statistics.   Part of me wants to discount them as being overly aggressive for shock value, but then I realize even if these stats are cut...