2017-12-15 Lions and Tigers and Boys.. Oh My

Yesterday was quite a strange day and full of expected and unexpected events. Most of it had to do with other people and most of those other people were men. Spoiler.. this one is on the long-ish side but the last bit at the end is super relevant to the story.

First, my ex-husband called me out of the blue while I was at the gym and interrupted my “flow” on the elliptical machine. We actually chatted for about 25 minutes and it ended up being a nice change up to my norm and it made that time pass faster.

He seemed to call for no reason, but I updated him on lots of things anyhow. Mostly stuff about the kids and my new job and coordinating things for the alterations in our schedules due to the Christmas holiday. It was a pleasant enough conversation, and in the end, when I asked him why he called he said something about Zoey and a text that came in while we were talking. I got the distinct impression he was deflecting the question, and then he had to get back to work.

Something is up, but I’ve learned not to question it or even give it a second thought because whatever it is, probably will not be that important and is likely not worth pressing on.

The second interaction was coffee with my other ex, Matt. He initiated meeting up and I requested coffee. He drove all the way to my end of town and we met at the Panera. He apparently wanted to just catch up. In my head I’d gone round and round all sorts of reasons he may want to meet and the thought even crossed my mind he might ask if I wanted to get back together.

Well, the thought crossed my mind, but I dismissed it. The conversation was mostly light, but did get a little more intense when we were talking about his grandma who is in pretty good physical health but whose mental capabilities are waning. I could not help but have empathy for him as the person who has the most contact with her and also sadness within me that comes from a place in the heart that remembers I used to call her grandma too. I still do really.

I had the courage to ask if he was still dating Lindsey, and he said that he is. Then he said a few things that seemed like puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit and it felt much like Brian earlier when he dodged my question on why he had called. I didn’t press on it this time either, but for different reasons. Someone once told me “Don’t ask questions that you don’t really want the answers to.”

I held it together pretty good and pushed my feelings deep down as we exchanged stories. What do you do with a person you know so well? What do you do with a person you still have feelings for? What do you do when they can’t or won’t or don’t feel the same way? I know what to do. Smile and fake it.

That’s what I did. I said all that I needed to say before (last year) and that’s why I can be free from regret and not feel the urge to say anything more now. I can just acknowledge my feelings are still there and have a conversation and also make sure he knows how awesome my life is right now.

I let my happiness and positivity shine through and suppressed my continued grief about “us”. It wasn’t until I was in my car pulling out of the Panera parking lot that I released that beast and burst into tears. I cried all the way home. Sometimes, life is just rotten.

Later in the day I discovered via twitter that an old acquaintance from years ago was in town from Cali and so I jumped in my car to meet him at Aromas in Benson. My turn to drive across town.

Gabe and I were not that close. We frequented the same circles and had several mutual friends. I thought to myself that a quick Meetup would be good for me and he was all for it as he saw most of his peeps at a tech holiday party last night and was just hanging out today messing on the internet.

It was really great to catch up and he’s doing some super cool things at Philo. He also recently took some time off of work and we shared a lot of commonalities around that. In an hour we covered Work, relationships, and what life is like living in the heart of San Fran. I discovered that when he comes back to Nebraska he always has A Wendy’s cheeseburger which he does not have easy access to where he lives (he’s living the car free life).

Wendy’s .. really??! Gross!!! I held my opinion to myself. After an hour we parted ways and I jumped back in my car to head home and start dinner.

That brings me to my last interaction of the day.. Simon paying me a visit to join us for dinner and evening activities. Cooper let him in and he came upon me in the kitchen while my back was turned. When I turned around to greet him with a hug, I almost missed the dozen purple roses he brought.

I’m ashamed of my first thought. “Oh no.. cut flowers”. I don’t care for cut flowers and I think the gesture is a waste of money and a shame to sentence those beauties to an abbreviated life. I practiced my faking it for the second time in the day and smiled and thanked him and promptly stopped what I was doing to get a vase.

In truth, I did allow some emotion to show.. just enough that he would pick up on it and ask me about it. I told him I had a tough day and asked if we could talk more after dinner. And so we did.

I talked about meeting Matt for coffee and then recounted the events of 2016 so he had a good frame of reference to understand the gravity of my meetup and the depth of my emotions.

He listened and attempted to find relatable connections in his own life. Some relationship he had 20 years ago that left him feeling the same things years later. I appreciated him listening to me and I know he’s smart enough to pick up on the other connection. I left Matt because he could not commit to a future and I’m not about to be in a relationship with someone else who has the same limitation.

We did not talk about “us” much. There’s nothing really to talk about. The cut flowers say it all.

One might say “how was he to know not to bring you cut flowers?”. My response to that is so revealing…

If you are seeing a girl and you know she’s into writing and you know she writes poetry you ask her about it. This is not freaking rocket science.

If you ask her she’ll be overjoyed that you are interested and she’ll share her blog with you so you can read what she’s written. If you want to be supportive and show you care about her interests and feelings, you’ll visit the blog and read at least some of her writing.

In my case, anyone who does that would most certainly read the poem on my home page. It’s called Long Talks and Sidewalks and the post has been “sticky” at the top for about nine months now (which it isn’t anymore because I’m getting ready to post something new). The second line of the poem says “Don’t bring me cut flowers and expect me to smile and swoon”. And it goes on to explain why.

Even if one were to assume that this is just poetry and words and fluff, they should have the wherewithall to inquire further about it… if they care.

I don’t think all of this is unreasonable. If it’s unreasonable, please someone tell me. As it is, Simon and I have been seeing each other for five months and he knows about my affinity for poetry and that I have a blog but has never inquired beyond that. If he brought me flowers on a second date or something, that would be different, but it has been five months.

There could be lots of reasons for that, but I’ve taken so much interest in things he cares about, the fact that it’s very one-sided is a concern for me. Like I wrote a few days ago, I don’t need someone to be totally gaga about my passions, but an ounce of interest is absolutely required. I added that to the scale a while back. The presentation of flowers just solidified it. /sigh

I guess I’ll just keep skipping merrily along this yellow brick road with a keen eye looking out for more lions, tigers, and .. uh.. bears. 🐻 😉

There’s No Place Like Home,
~Miss SugarCookie

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2017-11-16 The Measuring Stick

Spoiler alert. This one is long, has backstory, AND poetry.

It’s clear that I’m in a much better place today than I was this time last year. I don’t really need a reminder, but sometimes it’s good to have a measuring stick. Some way to know just how far I’ve come. The value in me writing every day, is that I always have that to look back on and it solidifies my progress. It helps me remember just how terrible I felt so I can appreciate my life now even more.

Of course there are certain instances and events that stick out in my mind, but in reading what I wrote a year ago, I find things I have completely forgotten about, such as a random poem.

This time last year I was still hopeful about a reconciliation with Matt. The percentage chance was definitely dwindling but I was still foolishly holding onto hope he would go with me to my sisters wedding in Mexico. Knowing what I know now, that was so stupid, but I didn’t have a window to see the truth of the situation at the time, nor did I have a crystal ball.

This time last year I spent every day thinking about that, and work, and toggled between crying and being angry. I was not sleeping well and plagued with headaches. I recognize that at that point, even after everything we put each other through, I would have taken him back if he would have agreed. In the end, I guess it was a good thing he started seeing someone else right away.

On this exact day last year I only had one journal entry, and it was a poem. I had forgotten all about writing that. I wrote “hundreds and hundreds of pages” of words, but in all of it, there were only a couple of poems. There’s a deeper meaning in that I think.

Anyway, I must have thought it was really crap to not remember it and not go back and try to revise it to make it something better. Typically if I think something is worth anything at all, I will work it over a little bit and then consider posting to my poetry blog. But not this one.

It’s about me taking back my ring (or asking for it back). I had given him my favorite ring with a pledge to really try again and promised to work on the things that I knew I had the power to make better. I had said that we could reboot and start again and if at some point he wanted to make more of a commitment, he could do that by giving me that ring. I’m not much into fancy jewelry or diamonds, so giving him a ring I would like to wear that fits my “ring” finger seemed like a good idea.

I don’t regret doing that or saying what I said. I always want to say what I need to say, regardless. At that time,I wanted him to know I was “all in”, and I accomplished that. It was like my “hail Mary”. Obviously, I didn’t score.

I wrote the poem about asking for my ring back on November 16, 2016, but I never followed through with that. I held onto hope. I wouldn’t actually get it back for three more months (February 22, 2017), and it was not because I asked for it, it was because we met for dinner and he brought it with him to give it back to me voluntarily. By that time, I had started posting my daily writing on this blog, so that’s also available (one of my favorites of the year so far actually). Here’s a link:

The Return of the Ring

As far as the poem goes, I played with the last few lines and though I definitely don’t care for it, it’s not so terrible as to toss away forever. I might even file it in the “archives” of my main blog. We’ll see.

My Ring

It’s OK.
I’ll take back my ring
And you can have your key
And then you will be free
Free of me and free to be
Who you want to be
But be warned
Being free
Is not all it’s cracked up to be
It can be lonely and sad
When you think about what you had
Or what you could have had
Maybe you wont
Maybe I’m wrong
I can’t pretend to predict
What will happen
In a life that’s so long
So I’m saying so long
Fare thee well
Please take care
It’s all OK, Fair is fair
You can have what’s yours
And I will have mine
I’ll take back my ring
And we’ll both be just fine.

Now, here I am a year later, and I have my ring and he has his freedom to live his life anyway that he wants without the burden of commitment.
Not only do I have my ring, though, I have learned something and moved forward with my life. I’m still making mistakes daily, for sure, but I’m always learning.

There is a lot that has happened between last November and now in my life and my struggle to get back to feeling OK with the end of that relationship is just one piece of that puzzle. I’m glad that I’ve written it all down. I’m glad that I have that record of how things were and how they have changed. As I said a few days ago, the human mind and memory are flawed. It’s nice to have something concrete to use as a measure for where I am at today.

Today was a good day. I hope a year from now I’m looking back saying “yeah, that was good, but now things are just amazing”.

Inch by Inch,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-11-11 The Phone Call that Changed Everything

Sometimes we look back at moments in our lives and realize there was a particular occurance or decision or person that had a huge impact. Something so significant, it altered the course of our path and perhaps put us going in a new direction. Many times we don’t even realize those moments until weeks, months, or even years pass. For me there have been several and when I think about those times, it somehow seems that fate had a heavy hand in my life.

If I were writing a blog that was about my history, now would be the perfect time to tell the story of that one raccoon that dramatically altered the course of my life… in a BIG way. However, since this is mostly about what is happening in the here and now and not about what happened to me when I was 18, I’ll skip that one and go right into the phone call I had at 1:55PM today, November 11, 2017.

The call was from Jenna, at UNO. She let me know that I’ve been accepted into the MFA program. If I want a spot in the spring term, it’s mine. Wow.
The conversation lasted less than five minutes and she’s going to send me a detailed packet of information via email early next week, then “Thanks, I’ll talk to you soon” and “click”. Again.. Wow.

At the time of the call I was at Simon’s house planting spring bulbs. He wasn’t home. I paced up and down his small living and dining area and cried. Then I jumped up and down like a 8 year old and then i walked over to look out the front window and cried some more. Yup.. I guess you can add that to the list of things that will bring me to tears. A wave of emotion filled with happiness and pride and satisfaction. I did it!

Like I stated, most of those life changing events in my past seemed to be up to fate, or someone else, or just me rolling with the path of least resistance. I never had dreams and aspirations. I never had big life goals. By the time I was 33 I was 10 years deep in my career and positive that was it. I was a software analyst with a computer science degree and I was positive I’d never go back to school, because my path was set and I didn’t need it.

If there’s anything I’ve learned these past two really tough years, it’s that I deserve more and I deserve better. I deserve to dream and I have every right to pursue whatever that is, despite fate or what anyone else might think about it. It’s my life and I’m calling the shots.

I’ve been writing my entire life. My poetry is a huge part of who I am.  It’s a part of my soul and my process. This choice, this path is what is the right thing for me. It’s what I want and what I need and starting something new might be scary and there are still obstacles in my path, but I have confidence in myself and my abilities and I’ll be able to make it work.

People are going to ask me why.

My only response right now “why not?!!”

Last December I had a casual conversation with the spouse of a colleague at the company Christmas party. That interaction planted a tiny seed which sprouted when I was working out on an elliptical machine in a shitty airport hotel in Portland Oregon. I had an epiphany about my life.

That idea grew over the next few months while I was living a work-free life of leisure. On 9/26 I had a moment of complete clarity and that is when I made the decision to apply for the MFA program. There’s no way I could deny the power of the force inside me pointing the way.

Ok.. so maybe today’s phone call wasn’t the thing that changed everything, but the fact that it happened and the way I felt about it is pure validation. I’m really doing this. Wow wow!!

Overjoyed,
~Miss SugarCookie

PS. This is the poem I included with the two page “Statement of Purpose” that was required by the application…

Why I Write

I write because the very essence of my soul demands it.
Hearts are weak, soft, and are hurt easy.
They bleed, and then cease to exist.
The soul is liquid forever
Moving at its own pace through existence.
Mingling with others, and then splitting apart
Tirelessly spilling into new territory.
Fearlessly cutting the terrain beneath it into cracks,
Caverns,
And yes, even canyons.
The fluidity of it is perfection.
And there’s no need to lead the way, it knows.
So denying it what it demands is folly.
My heart feels and seeks after inspiration.
But words are the implements of my souls grand design.

2017-10-17 Giving Credit Where Credit is Due

A few days ago I wrote about finally doing something I have been afraid to do for years. Fear may or may not be the right word, but at the heart of it, there is always some reason and that is the closest I thing I can come to pinpointing the root of why I had not submitted any of my writing to a publication.

This time, making the leap of faith to do something I had not done before was about 85% me. It was probably 10% inspired by the poetry reading/workshop I went to last week, and the last 5% I’m going to say was Simon. I think it is good to recognize where our motivation comes from and in this case, I’m pleased that it was mostly me. I don’t want to ever have to rely on other people or circumstances to push me to do something I really want to do but am afraid. I want to overcome my fears and have the ability to recognize when it is fear and to just go for it anyway. As Princess KK would say, “No risk, no reward”.

With that being said, I still want to acknowledge when there are people or circumstances that have helped me along. I want to be grateful for those people and those opportunities and if possible, I want to tell them or show them I’m grateful. In that blog post a few days ago I mentioned mustering the courage in 2010 to start posting my writing in a blog. That was seven years ago and I feel like I should publicly give credit where credit is due…

At that time, I was newly divorced and had just decided to start dipping my toe into the dating pool. I was urged by my friends to do that and not knowing how to do that, I elected to turn to match.com. There I quickly found a handful of people who, based on brief profiles and pictures, I had an interest in that also had an interest in me. I ended up going out on about three dates in one week (which was too much for me – but doesn’t that sound familiar?!).

The last of those three dates was with a guy, let’s call him Vis. After that lunch meet up at Ruby Tuesday at 102nd and Pacific, Vis and I became fast friends. It was not long before I knew his whole story and not long after that when we became intimate. We were extremely compatible intellectually and spiritually and emotionally and physically. We had some similar interests and many different interests. The one overarching item with regard to our relationship was the fact that I was way more into him than he was into me. I wanted a relationship and he just wanted to be friends because he knew I was “not the right girl for him”.

Based on behavior and words and shared experiences, I thought he might not being truthful about that, but I conceded to his request to just be friends with an option to opt-out at any time if someone better came along. That seemed OK at the time and I remained hopeful that he would change his mind right up until the very minute that someone better did come along.. for him. Cue the heartbreak.

I’m not going into the full story because “aint nobody got time for that”. The truth is that in the six months we were together, he urged me to post my writing online. He gave me strength to get over some other things I was dealing with at the time and supported my goals. The relationship was not for naught.

I was crushed when it was over, but looking back with softer eyes, I see the good. I see the value in what we both brought to each other. I want to give him credit for helping me and acknowledge his participation in my life’s journey. Relationships come and go, people wander in different directions on the path of life, but most still exist and are out there somewhere. A person should not dwell in the past, but they also should not pretend it never existed.

Incidentally, I’ve only had a handful of romantic relationships in my life and the one I had with Vis was the most poetically fruitful. I mean that quite literally. The number of poems I wrote about him, and us, and our time together outnumbers any other I’ve had by quite a margin. That includes Brian, my ex-husband whom I was with for 18 years and Matt, who I was with for 5. Considering the one with Vis was only 6 months, that’s quite impressive. I should give him credit for that too, despite the fact that most of that poetry WAS about being dumped.

In any case, I intend to email Vis and thank him. It’s the least I could do for the gifts he gave me.

Always Grateful,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-10-23 I Did It!! 😃

I’ve been writing for over 30 years. I’ve been meandering happily along the path of life and always choosing something else as my priority. Be that as it may, writing has always been my rock. It’s been my “way out”. It’s been one of the only things that I could truly rely on at every turn. 😃

I’ve always wanted to be brave with my writing and overcome my fears in sharing it with others. In 2010 I made a very big leap of faith and started posting content online to a WordPress blog.

https://shyspark.wordpress.com

That’s where all the poetry goes. It’s still active, though not as active as I would like. If people ask me for my blog, that’s the one I direct them to but I have several other blogs that I have started for various reasons since then.

I have a blog of not so polished/publish worthy things. This one is super inactive and I have not posted since 2015. It’s supposed to be rough drafts and attempts to use daily prompts and I’ve often found with everything else, I have not had the time for it.

https://twollamaspajamas.wordpress.com/

I have a blog that was a journal of my daily life and times for the entire year of 2014. Due to the fact that this was a blog dedicated to just that one year, December 31st, 2014 was the last time I posted to it.

http://miss-sugarcookie.tumblr.com/

I have a blog of rants and negative thoughts (written in a collective 1st person). The last post on this one was last year.

http://shyspark.tumblr.com/

The interesting thing about tumblr (or at least the theme I use), is that the year isn’t present, so a person has no idea if what they just read was from 2012 or 2017. I think I stopped posting there because I’m wide open for ranting on my Organic Miss SugarCookie blog

https://theorganicsugarcookie.wordpress.com/

Which is, of course, the blog you are reading right now. Somewhat akin to what I did in 2014, but much more.. ummm.. organic. 😉

So I guess you could say that I have become used to posting things online and have certainly gotten over my fear of having other people read what I have written, even if it is only a small handful of people.

What doesn’t make sense then, is why it has taken me so long to open up to the idea of submitting my work for print or other online publications. I am sure fear of rejection has played into it somewhat, but a few days ago I dug a little deeper into this topic and found that my fear of rejection probably stems from fear that my work is worthy and my poetry is mediocre.

At the heart of it, I am wondering if part of my motivation for applying to the MFA program is to somehow get credentials to validate that I am really a writer and that my work will be more worthy because of that. I can certainly say after spending the last few days researching “how to submit poetry”, having a degree shows people you are serious.

Otherwise, I worry that I am just going to come across like a girl with a broken heart who keeps trying at life but often feels like a failure. Will people just see me as a Hallmark card writer with a flair for the melancholy? I hope not. The jury on my MFA application is still out (for the love of Cheese and Crackers what is taking them so long?), but while I am waiting I’ve gathered the courage to officially start submitting my poetry. YES!!

Just a few minutes ago, I finally pushed the submit button on the online submission form for a literary magazine that I really dig, “The Sun”. That’s the one with a call for submissions of poetry with a theme of love and justice. They allow up to five poems per writer and so that is what I have gathered to send.

I wrote three new poems, which was just outstanding and included two others that were “sort of” in line with the theme. It feels like I’ve finally opened a door that I’ve been peeking inside of for years. Immediately after I hit submit, I started to cry. I can’t believe I finally did it.

Obviously if they accept one of my poems, I will be on the tippy-top of the world, but it doesn’t even matter if they do at this point. What matters is that I did it and now that is behind me. The next one should be even easier.

I can’t even begin to imagine what will happen next. If history repeats itself, in another seven years I might just have submitted to hundreds of publications and contests. I may even have been published in a few. I may have my own book and be the one on the other side of those writing workshops. Who knows, anything is possible.

No matter what happens, at least now I can finally say I am following my own advice.. “Today is a Good Day to Start”.

Cheers!
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-10-21 Have This Instead of That

Yesterday was another very satisfying day. It was a nice balance of all the things I love to do. The only thing a little lacking in my week this week has been sleep. One would think that as much as I harp on sleep being so important, I would have found a way to stick to those “better decisions”. Last night was the 3rd night in a row I had good intentions but just could not quite get to sleep “on time”.

It’s tough when you have teenagers and their timetable for sleep is “I’ll get to it when I get to it”. I’ve read that kids need more sleep, but hell, when you have that much energy how can that possibly be true? Despite late nights, they got up each morning in good spirits and ready to take on the day. So I ask “Where can I get some of what she had?” 😉

I can’t quite put the blame for my staying up to late on them though, I’ve had my own agendas. One day I procrastinated getting my financials together for a meeting the next day and found myself in a pile of paperwork at midnight. One day I was home late and then had conversations with the kids and talked for quite a while with Simon on the phone. Last night it was writing. I had a goal to write a poem about “Love and Justice” for the specific purpose of submitting to a publication and so I did just that but it took me really close to the midnight hour before I gave up (didn’t finish) and went to sleep.

However, I did decide to sacrifice something else this morning for the sake of sleeping in. I skipped my morning exercise routine. “GASP”. When you just have so many things you want to do, sometimes you have to switch it up and give other activities some attention. I’m sure missing out on the workout will not have any affect whatsoever on my overall master plan. Despite how much I have been really digging that “me” time at the gym, I didn’t really miss it this morning.

In truth, there’s no way I could sleep in, fit that in, AND make it to the writing workshop at 11:30. The alternate plan, now in action, was to wake up when I wake up, finish my poem, and then get ready to head downtown. So far so good (I’m awake and finished the poem – yay!). So really, instead of flexing my physical muscles today I will be flexing my mental one and doing something else I really love to do. This switch-a-roo is going to continue throughout the day and I will probably not even have time to get my steps “GASP GASP”.

The workshop I am going to is being conducted by the same two women who did the poetry reading I went to a few nights ago. They are allowing 50 participants and I signed up over a month ago. The last one I went to had about 10 people in it, so if it is a packed house like they are saying it will be, it is going to be a very different experience.

Time to get going now. There are parenting things that also need attention. It is Saturday and the kids are still sleeping. No wonder they don’t have issues staying up so late. 😃

Ready to Roll,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-10-20 Inspiration On the Path

I’m walking on this path of life and declared my purpose to be the search for inspiration. Sometimes the road is long and boring and sometimes there are waves of wonderful things to see and touch and hear and taste. So much that I can’t possibly consume it all and not miss something. Yesterday was one of those glorious days full of experience, thought, and emotion. 

Too much from the day to recount all of it so I will just focus on the highlight which was the feedback reading I attended. They changed the format from previous readings and the interaction/feedback was greatly reduced. It felt more like a standard poetry reading by two great authors whose work has been published and the pieces they read were polished and perfected. No feedback needed. Wait? Isn’t that the point of a feedback reading? To get feedback from the audience on some work in progress? If they want to change the format then they should change the name too, in my opinion. But I digress. 

The two poets they had were just phenomenal and clearly seasoned veterans at presenting their own work. One was a poetry slam champion so it’s no wonder she brought me to tears and the other was a woman who decided when she was 39 to quit her professional job and pursue her passion in writing. Hey, that sounds familiar! 

I’ve had no update on my MFA application and I’ve been strangely at ease with that. I think I’m scared about it. If I get a negative response I’m going to have even bigger issues with my insecurities about my abilities than I already do. If I get a positive response, then I’m faced with the decision to keep going, invest in myself, and actively take on more risk than I already have quitting my job. Like a giant fork in the road which lay before me and this decision will put me on a path where the road sign at that juncture will all at once show up in my rear view. 

If I take the road less traveled, I’m all-in. I cannot happily skip along both paths. There is only one of me and I have limited time and resources. 
Meeting Airea D. Matthews, author of the Yale Younger Poets Prize-winning for her collection, Simulacra, was validation that following ones instincts is the right thing to do and that the results can be amazing. She was the one who had a “normal” life with a husband and four children and a career and one day decided to change her life.

I spoke briefly with her and at the end of that conversation she said she was looking forward to reading my work. Uhhhh, what?!
I did not speak directly with Rachel McKibbens, who has a book, Blud, which is fresh out from Copper Canyon Press. She was the one who is a Slam success and her path was very different but still validating with the notion that you can do what you want despite many tough obstacles. Her obsticles are far and away more difficult than anything I’ve ever imagined. If money is my only hurdle, then I should just shut my mouth right now and “go for it”. 

However, hearing their work left a very polar opposite thought in my brain. My life and experiences may not be enough. My passion for the craft may not be enough and my talent is questionable. My poetry is very one dimensional compared to these women. 

Is the difference years of focus on their work or is it raw talent and life experience? I can’t know the answer to this which puts the scale of my decision back in balance. Most of the time I’m preaching all about balance but in this case, I really would like something to tip this scale in one direction or another. In the end, it’s my life and my decision. I’m afraid of screwing it up. 

I think when I do get some feedback on my MFA application, that will help. Until then, I’ll just keep walking this path soaking it all in.
 
Whistling While I Walk,
~Miss SugarCookie