"How others will react to this
quarantine is none of your business. Make a commitment to change and not
forget. Make sure this storm shakes you up so much that it completely
revolutionizes your life." ―Elena Bernabé, Indigenous Peoples Cultures.
April, 2020
My life was ticking along with great workshops scheduled in March, April
and May. Enter the wee virus that came with a destructive intention. Just like
that we were all introduced to staying home and social distancing. All my
workshops cancelled and businesses except essential services shut down.
In my seventy one years I worked hard to create my own reality. And pouf,
covid dared to classify me as elderly. Although I did recognize I had much to be
grateful for - living in a beautiful home in the Rocky Mountains.
Then on the 9th of April an email labelled ‘manuscript
submission’ arrived in my inbox. “Dear
Wilma, Unfortunately it has been decided not to proceed with your manuscript……..”
- my seventh rejection letter in two years. I told myself, I am strong I can handle this. When pains in my right hip and thigh
announced sciatica, I consulted my long time guru Louise Hay. In her book ‘You
Can Heal Your Life’ I read the negative belief under sciatica was, “Being hypo-critical.
Fear of money and of the future.” This rang a bell. Rejection, self-criticism,
not good enough, comparing myself with others have been my floating subconscious
for many years. For a few days I repeated her positive affirmation “I move into my greater good. My good is everywhere
and I am secure and safe.” Along with stretching, and ibuprofen the pain
left.
Next I consulted Dr Google a brilliant psychiatrist, on how to deal with
disappointment. His first piece of advice,
“Do what makes you feel better” was a
challenge given our endless winter of cold and snow and skiing banned due to our
friend the virus. The second suggestion,
“Time by myself” was a no brainer in
covid isolation. The third piece said, “attach
yourself to your desire not your goal.” Now I had been writing my memoir for
so long I had almost forgotten my original purpose - to share my travel experiences
of exotic people and places. However as I delved deeper into the writing
process I learned a good narrative is not about ‘we went there and took a
photograph,’ but about tension, suspense and yes conflict.
When both my editor and a friend asked me if my manuscript was about my
mother I rebelled. It had never been my plan to write about mother.
Nevertheless I am sure that somewhere in my subconscious I was indeed trying to
show her I was right in pursuing my truth not hers. What is/was my true
desire?? Approval from others? Money? A career? Telling the world how it should
be? Or hard it was/is for mothers?
This led me to days of introspection. I remembered how in the fall at
our women’s writing retreat, deeply buried under my nice girl persona, tears in
my eyes, I uncovered my profound shame of my words. To grow up in Presbyterian
Scotland without being shamed was impossible – smacked over the knuckles in
grade one, humiliated by my French teacher, mother burning my book The Naked
Ape and feeling abandoned by father’s death at age 10.
Some years ago hiking in the Rockies, it came to me that I was in a
cocoon and my writing self barely a teenager. Recently as I meditated on a Medicine
wheel I recalled projects and life itself were seasonal. My writing needed the fall
to let go, winter to hibernate, spring to sprout new life and fruit would
arrive in the summer.
Back to the internet, “Disappointment
is helping you become a stronger individual, with new awareness and growth.”
From experience I have learned to watch my thoughts like a cat catching
a mouse, that ‘love is letting go of fear,’ and the comfort of a hot bath. To
me freedom is rooting myself hiking by rivers, in forests and mountains.
As I contemplated the benefits of writing I appreciate the passionate
people I have met who encouraged me to know myself. The classes that I taught
that make me feel as if ‘I was born to do this.’ I have slowly learned be
compassionate to my erroneous thoughts and my immature writer on her growing
edge.
