Category: April Moon

One of my greatest sources of inspiration has always been…

…going outside. I love fresh air, singing birds, lush trees, fluffy clouds, clear skies, and sunshine. I love starry, moonlit nights and the chirping of crickets. The feeling of wind through my hair as it rushes past. The chance encounters with wildlife. Something about going outside always softens my mood and provides a quick boost of inspiration. In fact, I’m sitting outside on my back deck enjoying some twilight typing as I respond to this particular story starter. Spring birds are calling to each other in a tree overhead. They look like blue jays from here, although it’s getting harder to see through the branches as all the spring green leaves have begun to unfurl. A quick search confirms that the songs I heard were indeed blue jays singing in that tree. The clouds are rushing past in the atmosphere on this breezy evening, inviting me to hurry my finger tips along.

The last time I felt completely relaxed was…

Honestly, I don’t quite remember the last time I was completely relaxed. Maybe it was Sunday night after getting home from work and getting to enjoy the rest of my evening. However, I’ve been tense as of late. I don’t know that I’ve felt completely relaxed in several months. I don’t believe I’ll be completely relaxed until we move and get settled in our new home. Moving stresses me out. Writing this out makes me realize I need to spend a little more time focusing on relaxing in order to reduce my stress levels for the interim.

Giving birth doesn’t have to be literal. So far in my life I have birthed…

Obviously I’ve birthed three children, but creatively I’ve birthed this blog. I’ve birthed a business idea. I’ve birthed a few websites. I’ve birthed a prompt series. From a creative perspective, you can birth just about anything you want. What you create becomes an extension of yourself, like your offspring. My ideas have grown, just as my children have. My ideas need nurturing, just as my children do. I have ideas I’ve conceived, yet not given birth to just yet. They need more time to mature and grow before they can be birthed into the world.

Knowing what I know now, I would tell my ten-years-ago self:

Ten years ago, it was April 2005. I was struggling to make it as a pre-vet student. I was struggling to find a job so we could afford to move to a better apartment in a better neighborhood. I was trying to build a new life, but I was also trying to live a childhood dream. I eventually changed my major because I failed chemistry and calculus too many times. I landed a job at a cat clinic and found that I really enjoyed my work. We moved in August 2005 into a much nicer, much safer apartment in a complex that saw us welcome two new babies into the family. Ten years ago, we were still a family of 3, still young and inexperienced.

I always question ideas like this — what would the affects of me telling my past self about the future do to my present? Would I like those changes? It’s one of those things that comes with consequences. However, I do value ambiguity as a way to keep things safe. So, I would tell my ten-years-ago self to keep smiling like I always do. To have courage even when everything seems hopeless. To dream even when my dreams are shattered. To look for flowers. To look for light. To never stop pursuing and cultivating happiness. And shouldn’t we all do that anyway? Shouldn’t we all keep smiling and having courage? I think so.

That’s when I knew that this chapter of my life had ended. And now I was free to…

Once the dust had settled and our family had been reunited, I realized that I was in the wrong place to build dreams — to raise young minds. That’s when I knew that this chapter of my life — living in rural Northwest Georgia, far away from my family of origin — had ended. I was now free to move away and rebuild our lives and start fresh. I’ve been planning a move back to Florida, much as I never thought I’d say that. I’d like to start over and give our family more support by moving closer to my family again. I grew my love of family in my family of origin, and I want my children to adopt that same mindset. I also see that the scars are rubbed wrong when we encounter people and places from that dreadful time under the microscope. It reminds all of us that we were once threatened as a family unit — that we were picked apart and forced to uphold lifestyles and standards far greater than the typical family. But now we are free, and we’re going to spend more time swimming in my grandparents’ pool, sharing big family meals, visiting the beach, and living our lives. It’s time to write a brand new chapter.