Goodnight, Smokey

It's 3:21 am. I got off the phone with my daughter half an hour ago. She's miserable where she is. She went to help her family during a tough time. And that's what she got for it - a tough time. My daughter has often awakened me in the middle of the night. Sore throats, throwing up, bad dreams, hungry, has to pee. It's been a while since these occurances; she's 20 now. But I was always there to help. This time she's in San Francisco and I'm not there to stroke her hair and cradle her until she falls asleep. O.K. she's 20 and I would still do those things if they made her feel better. She's not a helpless kid; if anything, I'm a helpless mom. I have leaned on her so much. She has set me back on track, encouraged me to take chances, and has even soothed me to sleep. When her father left, she was 2. We had just moved back in with my mom and dad. It was late and a long day of packing and moving and saying goodbye and fighting and finally...we were in bed. But all I could do was cry a shaking, heartbroken, ugly cry. She sat up in bed and put her arm around me and looked right at me and sad," Don't cry, Mommy. Happy!" I looked at her sleepy, smiling face. What could I do but thank God and smile back? I remember falling peacefully asleep after that.

I miss you, Smokey. I'm sorry you're sad. You went there to do something out of love, and I'm so proud of you for that. Everything's going to be o.k. Everybody loves you there. Don't cry. Happy.

I've been up since 3:30, when my daughter went to the kitchen for something and turned the light on. I used to get up at 4 every morning to take a cold shower. Well, that's not the only reason; it was part of my sadhana, daily spiritual practice. After the shower, I'd read some Bible, meditate, and practice kundalini yoga. My sadhana shifts often. For a year, I got up and went to the park by my house and sang Japji, the Song Of The Soul - beautiful! I live near cliffs overlooking the wild Pacific.
One day while reciting Japji, barely before sunrise, it was so foggy I couldn't see three feet in front of me. By the time I had finished (it takes about twenty minutes) the fog was lifting and there before me, in the cold, blue water, was none other than the Black Pearl! It was headed right for me!
On another occasion, I was reciting my prayer and a woman came up to me and asked me if I knew where Jesus's bones were? That was the last time I did my sadhana on the cliffs before sunrise.
I now prefer getting up a little later in the morning. God loves me no matter when I wake up. And my husband prefers me without the bags under my eyes.

3 Day Novel Writing Contest

I finished my first book. In three days. Any closet writers out there, check out this contest. It's held every Labor Day weekend. 30,000 or so entries are received. Mine will be one of them. I'm computer weary right now, but I feel so good about what I've just done. My story has a beginning, middle, and end. They flow together. Sometimes it's interesting. The point is, I did it. Every entrant gets a certificate of completion. There are money prizes. There is a grand prize of publication. I must say, though, I did it for the certificate of completion! I have several stories on my laptop, none of which has an ending. I want my story to be read and recognized. Hey, I want to be seen and heard. I've always wanted that.
I feel so good right now! I heard November is Novel Writing Month. Those sissies! A whole month! I'm in!

Naming My New Blog

I have 5 minutes. Udnib is bindu backward. Bindu means potential. This is where I will explore my potential as a writer, or it will be where I discover I have no such potential. I just joined the International 3 Day Novel Writing Contest. I start Friday at midnight and end Monday at midnight. I'll let you know how it goes. I've never written a novel and have barely completed any story written since high school. This should be interesting. It could be boring. But those are always the choices we're faced with. A date could be interesting or boring. A movie. An afternoon. I haven't used the word "boring" since the third grade and now I've gone and written it 3 times. I'm sorry, Mrs. Lamb. I must be boring. It's time for work, which is never dull. Goodbye.