One week. Seven days. Too many hours, minutes, and seconds to calculate. I hope I’ve used this time wisely. Like a crab that has just sloughed off its shell, I’ve felt exposed and vulnerable. So I’ve retreated to places that feel safe. But I’ve also ventured out, reached out, because I know I can’t stay hidden away.
I have been humbled by the outpouring of support generated by my words. Both in person and online, I have felt caring and compassion. So it felt wrong to go from a place of such powerful words one day to a recipe for chicken bake the next. And I made a decision to cancel the posts that had been scheduled for the rest of last week. But just as I can’t stay locked away in the hopes of avoiding pain, this space I have created can’t stay fixed on that emotion.
I’ve mentioned before that I write my posts and schedule them to publish in advance. That’s the only way I can balance all that I want to do with all that I have to do. And it keeps this space from spiraling out of control and completely consuming my life. I say that because I won’t publish a post that was written after this experience until sometime well into the fall. In my mind there is a discord between the words that have already been written and the ones that are to come. I can’t imagine that something won’t be changed, won’t feel or sound different, when I sit down and tackle the mountain of recipes that need to be posted.
I will be interested to see if that’s the case when the new stories are written. Will there be an obvious shift or will it be something subtle, almost undefinable? And it will be interesting to see if any of the posts that publish in the interim will take on any new significance to me reading them through a different filter.
Thankfully, I have the freedom to take my time and let the words come to me.
Bon Appetit Hon 
You have a community of people you enrich and support here, Wendi. They will be here when you are, for whatever you need.
Oma, I don’t have the words to express how much strength I have gotten from this community of people. There is power in community and I am grateful to be a part of it.
I wish I had heard the speakers last weekend. I really appreciate the honesty and raw emotion you’re displaying here. I only wish I felt comfortable enough to do it on my own blog. I’m in a rut, there, and nothing I want to write feels like it belongs. I apparently could use a dose of Potluck. Your words have given me a lot to think about, regardless. I thank you for that.
Jacki, I’m sure that you would have taken away a very powerful message from the speakers. And the funny thing is that your message may have been different from mine. In the words that Shauna and Penny spoke, every person in that barn heard what they needed to hear. For me, one of things I needed to hear is that until I faced my fear, gave it a name, it would always haunt me. It would always lord over me. There was also a collective sigh of relief at the realization that we ALL have these fears…of being accepted, of being valued, of being appreciated. And yes, it’s scary to put it all out there. But remember what Alice said last year about being authentic. People respond to that because by admitting to the messiness of life, in whatever form that takes, it reminds us that we are not alone in these struggles. I’m not the only person in the world who had a difficult relationship with her mother. And by expressing what that was like for me, maybe it made someone reading my words feel a little less alone because they too have had a rough road with a parent.
You have the luxury to take the time and space that you need to get through this–take advantage of that. We all understand. I admire your organization, BTW. I’m sure there will be a shift between the scheduled posts and the ones that will come after, but we are constantly growing, being shaped by our experiences. It’ll be what it needs to be.
I’m glad you’re taking the time to feel out what’s inside you and let it naturally progress to the keyboard. I hope that this is a sweet time for you in your ‘inner life’–that talking about this on your blog will lead to some kind of peace for you that will cover your memories and outlook on all the happened to you with your mother. Looking forward to the fall . . .
Jenna, it feels awkward to be so deliberately reflective but it also feels like the right thing to do.
It is a journey that is necessary for you to travel. You will be enriched by this journey. Just remember baby steps and deep breaths and when the “moments” come……let your tears flow. It will take time…….try not to push it. I am here for you…..and look forward to your Fall postings!
Love you!
And like any journey, it will be built upon steps and missteps. Hopefully I will have the wisdom to tell the difference between the two.