Saturday, January 9, 2010

I'm Small

I'm small today. Not small in any sense of the word that would imply being mean, or petty. I'm not those things. (Not petty anyway)

And I don't mean small in the literal sense either. Even though I'm short.

I'm small today against my own self. Small inside the memory of who I used to be.

When I was an angsty teen I used to go to the ocean and sit on rock piers with a journal and a pen. Just to feel that littleness. To measure my distress against nature's vast expanse.

Cliche. Overdone. The girl with the journal looking out at the sea. And the funny part is I never wrote anything down. I brought it why? So anyone looking at me could categorize me? "See there. Over there? Yeah, that artsy girl with the journal." I think they'd call me emo these days....

Or maybe I brought it because I hoped the words would come. But they didn't. Not then anyway.

I took three steps back today. I finished something that I started a lifetime ago. I got up early, in the black morning, and drove away. And in the car I had the quiet time to revisit so much of what I've done.

I was little. I had a baby. I was scrappy. I figured it out.

She was brought up with candles and music and life all around her. I looked at her and felt small. She was the ocean to me. And I began to write in her presence.

And then my world got caught up somehow with life. And busy successful things. I morphed quickly from the "artistic disappointment" to the "capable success story."

Yawn. How did that happen?

But today, I began to right it all. Back on track to eccentricity. Fantastic....

Shhhhhh.... I'm going back there now. Back down to that place where nothing matters more than my face against the sky. It's been a good day.


  1. Oh, you get me here: "And then my world got caught up somehow with life. And busy successful things. I morphed quickly from the "artistic disappointment" to the "capable success story." Sometimes the balance is so hard to find...maybe there can't be a balance. Maybe we all have to go sit on the rocks with our journals and wait until our real self arrives, even if that means passing, on some of the "capable success." Go for it.

  2. Sometimes I'd like to get up early in the black morning and drive away for a while, but whenever I do that it's for work and I'm just trying to get through the day. I'd like those mornings to hold something different someday.

    I'll get there. One word at a time. So will you, good lady. So will you.

  3. I love this. It flows so beautifully.

  4. Sometimes I think blogging is helping me find a rusty voice--one I put a gag in long ago or, at least, stuffed in secret drawers.
    I hear your voice so visceral and true when you write. The sky loves your face. I am sure of it.

  5. Searching for her is why I blog. When I can write even remotely like you did here, I know she won't be far away.

  6. Suzy, I feel very good for you right now.
    Very, very good!

    That kind of small is immense...


  7. Here's to good days and remembering the small hands that planted the seeds..

  8. I love it when I see that your blog has been updated. Awesome as always. And I agree with Secretia - "that kind of small is immense."

  9. What a beautiful, wonderful day for you. I'm so glad you're seeing the measure of yourself and greeting her happily. You're incredible. Love you so.

  10. A story about peonies? What a small world!

    I love your writing, especially this:
    "To measure my distress against nature's vast expanse."

    And, "...where nothing matters more that my face against the sky."

    Write on, girl!

  11. This is lovely, and kind of sad. Supposed to be sad? It's like a ode to loneliness.

  12. Oh, I love this. I love how we all draw inspiration from such different things at such different points in our lives. And your post can be interpreted in so many unique ways. I connected with your words because they reminded me of being a mother.

    Thanks for this!

  13. I love it. It sounds good and sad all at the same time. Amazing. =)

  14. It's a good feeling to be in that place -- and to be on that journey. Kudos for being so comfortable in your skin.

  15. Oh wow suzanne. I have missed visiting you. I so love your words. The littleness, oh how I love the feeling of looking at the ocean and feeling the littleness. You had me at, "I'm small today."
    Some days I am small too. I think I prefer it to being large. And my children are the ocean to me too. I so get that image :)

  16. I am quite sure I have the most fantastic comment leavers in the entire blogosphere.

  17. Your words always make me smile and yet my heart aches at the same time. Beautiful writing.

  18. Beautiful, just beautiful. I too have experienced being small, as I contemplated the ocean. You captured that feeling perfectly.

  19. so simply complicated, it seems.