Category: Create

Ink…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

In what feels like another life, I hated writing in pencil. I hated how the tip felt, whether sharp or dull, as it glid across the page. I’m unsure what my issue was, or exactly when it changed. One day I was a devoted pen user, cringing with the equivalence of nails on a chalkboard at the very thought of using a pencil, and then one day it seemed I could only write in pencil. To say writing anything in pen spurred a sense of anxiety wouldn’t be a stretch.

Maybe you’re reading these words and thinking this all sounds pretty unimportant, but I can tell you that isn’t how it felt.

I belong to a doodling community and our beautiful leader is always encouraging us to doodle in pen, focussing on fun over perfection. Listen, I get it. I take every single one of these workshops with my pencil in hand and I guarantee perfection is still the farthest thing from my outcome. Is it fun? Cathartic? YES! This is why I stay in the community… Even so, every time we gather together, I’m the one lone creator not using ink. To be honest, I don’t see that changing… Sometimes I have tremors, sometimes my vision is so wonky, and sometimes there seems to be a foggy disconnect and everything I draw out is so grotesquely unsteady. In this setting, I don’t mind being the mechanical pencil-carrying odd man out. This is where I’m comfortable…

Comfort.

There is an odd sense of comfort in the ability to erase. Back, those years ago I perhaps lived within a confidence that disregarded room for error. Looking back through old notebooks and journals I see so many black ink (always black) scratch-outs. I didn’t care. Sometimes still, even with a pencil, I will scratch through an error, out of habit, rather than erasing it.

What brought the change?

This morning, as I sipped my cup of tea and engaged in my morning quiet time, I chose to boldly journal in pen. (If you’re wondering where the deep, thoughtful pondering of this very boring personal preference came from–now you know.) Ultimately my question became one of searching for when this changed and why. Maybe you’re one who just jots things down with whatever instrument is near, so the very idea of talking this out seems asinine. I get it. As a writer, I remember feeling far more intentional purpose with my pen in hand than I’ve ever felt with lead. Something shifted in me, years ago, and I want that girl back…

Or at least the inky version of her.

Sometimes habits shift so subtly that we aren’t even aware of the depth of the shift until much later. For me, it feels important to understand it, to understand what moves these shifts in me… On the surface, a change in us can feel trivial, but sometimes when we dig deeper we may learn something that ties to a much larger issue, aching, or need. One way to practice self-love is to spend intentional time connecting with ourselves, giving the type of attention to detail we often hope others will have.

adding fuel to the flame…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

Have I forgotten what fire feels like? I mean, not real flames of fire, but the heart kind… the inside. The sort of fire attached to cliche sentiments like “pursue what sets your soul on fire”. That sort of fire, not to be confused with the harsh moments of life which feel as though they’ve burned my inner core to the ground.

What does set my soul on fire? For so long it was writing, and I think in comfortable ways it still is. Writing is that thing I need to always remain tethered to, or I simply cease to function well. Do you know what else impairs my ability to function well? Not being creative. The less I’m trying to be artistic (and listen, try as I might, I don’t do well, but I simply don’t care about that. It is the doing that is healing and life-giving, not the perfection!) the less I want to tackle the nurturing, daily bits of life…

the things that encourage me to

  • wash my face every evening.
  • go to bed when my body and mind tell me it’s time.
  • pick up a book to read instead of a remote to watch.
  • stop doom scrolling.

Attempting creativity on a regular basis corrects all of this. It insures that when I do want to listen to music or watch something, it is of a higher quality and less fast-food, mass-made consumption.

It all seems like a no-brainer sort of problem, doesn’t it? And yet… And yet I struggle.

I’m trying, in this new month and second half of an otherwise difficult year, to do better–be better. I’m also trying to release expectations because I am a chronically ill person who struggles with occasional depression. I am forever planning things that old-me could do, and then being reminded IN THE ACTUAL MOMENT that mistakes were made and I’m not that girl anymore. It makes it hard, and to be honest I am feeling a stupid amount of anxiety over my trip home next month, paired with my book launch. There’s so much pressure, especially since I haven’t been there for three years and I am just so different now.

I want to harness the fire I once felt, the flames that fueled the making and doing… the fire that motivated that girl. In truth, I’m tired. Most of us are. These past few years have not been kind to us, and yet they’ve taught us to take note of the little moments that keep life beautiful. These thirty-eight months have educated me on the vitality of being more intentional and prioritizing connection, community, and kindness.

Perhaps the flames are still there, it’s just that now they are the slow, steady burn of a well-connected and creative life.

that pesky halfway mark…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

Every time I sit down to contemplate the lessons a month held, things feel so much heavier than they did the month prior. I’m not loving that trend. While it is completely unrealistic, as we’re now halfway through this year of our Lord 2022, I’m going to hope this B:Side is gentler…

June was a month. A MONTH. I’m really showing my age when I say this statement, but it is once again so profoundly true: This month was an eternity long, but also how is it already the end of June???

Things I learned (or relearned) over the past thirty days:

  • I do actually enjoy going to the movies. Hear me out, anyone who has known me for any length of time has known me as a movie lover. Pre-Covid, going to the movies was something we did OFTEN. Sometimes more than once a week. When routines hit pause, we reevaluated and started to wonder if we still loved this activity. Even getting back into it, well over a year later, often felt uncomfortable. Today I can so I do enjoy it but as something special. Once or twice a month is more than enough for me. I don’t want to go if it’s not a movie that I am seriously excited to see.
  • We can disagree with people we love, about hot-topic issues, and still be respectful. I don’t love this “unfollow and block” mentality, it’s gross and dismissive. Have the hard conversations–show that respect. If you can’t come to a place where you each can exists in love and differences, then take that drastic step. We’ve all had different experiences, and we will majorly disagree with our people sometimes.
  • I’m REALLY glad So You Think You Can Dance is back. While I’m not a dancer, I am a veteran series watched and suspect I may be more articulately qualified to judge than Leah Remini is. (Fox, if you need a stand-in–CALL ME!)
  • Raccoons are jerks. Or at least the one raccoon (we suspect it was one) who slashed the screens of our sunroom to get in and eat the cat food is. How are we kicking off July? By attempting to repair the damage and raccoon-proof our favorite room that is currently out of commission.
  • Sometimes it is essential to take a mental health day, (even when you work for yourself at home) lay on the couch, and binge-watch something. The world will whisper this is a lazy thing to do, but listen… the world needs to mind its own business. Rest can look like a million different things and only YOU get to say what’s right for you.
  • Ice cream for dinner is acceptable. Period. I am prepared to die on this hill.
  • That the world was not ready for Kate Bush music when I was a kid like it is now. I’m here for this revival, though I was also here for it when I was nine.
  • Conservative Purity viewpoints are solely responsible for things like porn addiction. I’d go so far as to say this may be true for a large portion of assaults on women as well. I realized this will be a controversial viewpoint for many, but the reality is the objectification of women is driven from this hyperfixation.
  • Too much time in the summer heat can cause a fever for me. It seems silly, but I experienced it after the Lumineer’s concert that was a few weeks ago, in the middle of a heatwave, and again after attending PrideFest last weekend. BIZARRE… but also, learning these things about the way my chronic illness manifests itself empowers me to know how to act, plan, and what to expect later.
  • Finding creative ways to partner with small, women-owned businesses is my absolute favorite thing!

As we head into the second half of our year, may we love kindly, hold space for others, and treat ourselves gently…

XOXO,

M

the magic quadrant…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

When I logged on to my WordPress account today to lay out a few small words within this often neglected space I saw the words Magic Quadrant. Magic Quadrant... As I quickly clicked through the pages my brain took in those words just as the screen changed. I quickly assumed it was in relation to some WP-related workshop or other, but honestly, I don’t know.

Clearly, I found the words intriguing. Suddenly what I had expected to fill these lines with had floated away–my mind instead consumed with Magic Quadrant.

A quick consult with Alexa tells me that this is a series of market research reports published by IT consulting firm Gartner that involve some sort of data analysis regarding marketing… this point in her delivery of the information I requested is when my eyes glazed over and my ears filled with music similar to that of the Academy Awards when they are rudely trying to get winners to stop talking. It seems as though a group of people pulling together reports on data of any sort would come up with a better name than Magic Quadrant.

Magic Quadrant sounds to me like a sweet spot. And maybe, in laymen’s terms, that’s what we’re talking about here.

I get certain aspects of marketing. I understand, with someone who has something to sell, I need to identify my ideal customer and decipher what the need they have is, so I can meet it. I get all of that… But then, other people just like me are talking about SEO words and I’ll be honest: Cue glazed eyes and Oscar orchestra because I’m done.

I want to be the author who tells the truth about life–my life, and life happening all around me. I want to share not the dry data of events, but how they feel and why they matter. I want to focus on the power of story, the power of healing, the power of empathy, rest, genuine self-care, and acting love. I don’t want to craft posts around trending words that bring people to this space. I don’t want to conform my writing to what is attracting the most buzz. I want this space to be a quiet, restful space where those who come here know they will be safe to read, process, and might just leave with something that balms something in them which burned a little before they got here.

The true Magic Quadrant.

My way feels a little less dirty, although the other way isn’t at all dirty either, it just doesn’t feel like me.

This may be why I’ll probably never be a best-seller or make it onto many book lists. I think I’ve had to grow to the point where I’m ok with that. Early on writers are taught to want one of the big publishing houses to buy their book, and to dream of the NYT bestseller list… For a long, long time those were the things I believed I wanted too, because these were the things I was taught to chase if I wanted to be a writer.

I no longer want those things.

Whether it is five or five-hundred thousand people who read my blog, listen to my show, or buy my book, I want it to matter. I want it to feel like a genuine moment of intimacy followed by a good friend wrapping a blanket around their shoulder and reassuring them–There there… You’re ok, and even when it doesn’t feel like it you’re not alone. This space is safe and warm, real and connected…

It turns out my magical space is far more fairy-twinkle lights, steaming mugs of tea, and cozy blankets than the data would allow, and I this feels right for me.

to a close…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

As January comes to a close I’ve been thinking about what I’ve learned… As the clock brought us into this new year, it was with cautious optimism that I greeted 2022. Usually, New Years Day holds big Monday vibes and anyone who knows me knows that Mondays are my favorite, but this year I only felt tired.

I learned to choose fun in the everyday moments, and while I’ve likely learned this lesson before (and will again) somehow it rang truer.

I learned how essential it is to embrace the extra effort that is creativity. To try new things, even if I’m not good at them. This played out in the form of digital drawing on Procreate, making homemade sugar cubes for tea, and painting my first small canvas. None of them were perfect, but each one breathed a sense of life into me–the very thing that dancing with creativity does.

I was reminded of all the loss we’ve had in recent months. My mother-in-law has been struggling with her health since September and so I sent my husband across the country to spend some time with her. It was here where I learned that life–or in this case, SNOW–will hit the hardest when we are alone. During this time of being snowed in, I once again reconnected with fun. I did at-home spa treatments for myself, as well as the dog and cat. (I imagine you can guess which one was less than thrilled and which one loved it.) This was also when I learned to ask for help when I need it instead of insisting on being the helper.

As I seem to every month, I learned more about my writing journey–this forever quest towards something… Align is my word of the year and already these lessons I’m learning are bringing me more into alignment.

For this I am grateful.