Goodbye For Now

Fluffy in a colorful pool; summer, 2004. He doesn't worry about time.

I need more time. I just can’t get a handle on it, on how to manage it effectively. It’s so mysterious and powerful to me, like voodoo. I need to walk the narrow streets of the deep south with a wise and eccentric medicine woman, the kind who glides along on feet hidden beneath her draped and flowing layers of texture, color and scents, who learns me in the art of harnessing personal power and vision while remaining firmly grounded to the earth and family and mischief.

I’ve come to conclusion that I can’t blog anymore. Okay. I’ll keep blogging but I can’t do it very often. I love the feeling of community and camaraderie I’ve gotten over this past year or so. I love writing regularly. I love reading other blogs. I feel as if we’re in the same neighborhood, that we crisscross the street in our pjs, clutching our coffee cups or wine glasses or screaming children, our hair in tangle knots, our clay masks cracking like mud flats too long without rain.

But the computer is becoming like the salami these days. I sit down to steal an hour or so to work on a project and before I know it, a pound of genoa is missing and stray bits of peppercorn are stuck to the end of my nose. I say, I’ll just check my email and peek at a few blogs and then swooosh, I’m down the rabbit hole through the space/time continuum that leads me here and there in what feels like lightening time but what is really a slippery through-the-looking-glass distortion of time and I wake to find myself googling something absurd and meaningless and my time, she is gone, down the steps, with nary even a silver slipper in her wake.

So, I’m saying goodbye. For a little while. We’re off to Arizona on Friday. We’ll be back when spring has sprung, on the 21st of March and I’ll be back shortly afterward. And maybe things will be different then. Maybe this novel will be edited and the playroom help will have stabilized and the gentle winds of spring will carry secrets of expansion and self-actualization.

Until then, I wish for you: smooth chins free of facial hair, lazy mornings of dancing in your underpants, shining moments of clarity, and sweet forgiveness.

Comments

[mom-nos]

Rest, rejuvenate, and return, my friend. And if I'm sitting on your front steps in my bathrobe with coffee cup in hand when you get back - well, don't say I didn't warn you.

[MommyGuilt]

Kyra - You have been a great strength and source of inspiration for me. I can understand why you feel the need to recharge. I've been finding myself stuck in that same rabbit hole on occasion, ok, more than on occasion, but lately I'm having to fight my children to find the time to even look for the field in which the hole is located.

I second Sal in saying do what you must and hurry back, and I echo Laura in saying....I'M GOING TO MISS YOU DESPERATELY AND I"LL DO SOME TOTALLY SELFISH WHINING UNTIL YOU RETURN!

Love to you and Fluffy and hubby!
HUGS HUGS HUGS!
Christina

[Susan]

Oh I shall miss you and your salami references. Have a wonderful trip!

And I will be right here when you get back.

[Laura]

Sad to see your news, but I understand exactly what you are talking about. RDI alone takes a lot of time and energy, so I feel like my time can't be thoughtlessly thrown away right now. Take care!
---Laura (Patrick's mom)

[KC'sMommy]

We'll miss you! I love reading your blog so much!

I live in Arizona and hope you have a great time here!

The weather has been so gorgeous these days!

[mrsfortune]

Awww!!! I just found you recently too and I'll totally miss you. May your life be less chaotic and hopefully you'll be back before too long.

[Kristen]

I know just what you mean about the blog-time problem. Sigh. Have a great trip, good luck catching up, and here's to lazy mornings and sweet forgiveness for us all... look forward to seeing you back, Kyra!

[Lora]

I must say, thank you for all your kind words of support that you have left for me especially in my times of great need. It has meant a lot to me. I wish for you great happiness in all that you do until we meet again. May you find rest, relaxation, and lots of fun in Arizona. I look forward to your return.

[Angela]

Bummer...I'd just found your blog. Oh well, I guess there are the archives to enjoy. I hope you leave the blog up and running, in case you find the time to post again from time to time.

Best to you and yours...

[candace]

I think we all go through this, this attempt at balancing what we have to do with what we want to do. We all come to that balance, eventually. For me, my balance was acheived when I dropped a bunch of blogs and I stopped feeling the compulsion to write in my own every single day. And I do now limit my time on-line.

I hope you have a wonderful trip and I hope you come back feeling renewed and with your spirits lifted.

[gretchen]

I love what you said about living in the same neighborhood. I love that. That's how the blogworld makes me feel too. I wish it could be in "real" life. And we would watch one another's kids and not care if they ate with their fingers or screamed at odd moments...

So, have a good vacation neighbor. I'll feed your fish while you're gone.

[Laura]

Ok, everyone else is being so gracious, so I am going to have to balance all that out with a selfish rant. WAAH! You CAN'T leave! We will MISS YOU!!!

But seriously, have fun in the sun and recharge your batteries. We hope to see you upon your return. Also, send me an e-mail if you have time and let me know what you are up to. I used to live in AZ so I know some great restaurants...

[Julie]

Oh, heavens, I relate. I am the queen of distractableness, and my novel is floundering. I will miss having a connection to you through your blog.

Have a wonderful break!

[Melinda]

I will miss you while you are out and hope you do return. I understand completely how blogging and being online in general can steal HOURS from your regular day. I am guilty too. I also understand about your fears at the dentist for Fluffy....I worry all the time about the same for Noah. Right now his front four teeth upper and lower look horrible. I am terrified I will have to take him to a dentist and worse the hospital and have him sedated...just so they can do cleaning or something to fix the bad looking teeth...which I think and hope are only dirty. Having to hold your child down to have even simple everyday things done to them is rotten. AND so nerve-racking and heart wrenching. I will miss you terribly and love your writing style. I CAN SO RELATE to all you say. Take care!

[Estee]

I will miss your beautiful writing...this post of lingering images.

I suspect we'll see a book from you soon.

All the best (and come back soon),

Estee

[Octoberbabies]

Do what you must then hurry back!

[Felicity]

OK, it's only with a struggle that I can be as gracious as everyone else here. I undertand your decision and I look forward to reading whatever you are able to post, whenever you post it.
Love you.

[Eileen]

I understand and can relate completely to your decision to take a break. Have a good time in Arizona. We'll be here to read and share when your ready to post again.

[stacy]

I've only just begun my blogging experience, but I'll still be sad to see you go!!

[Kristina Chew]

Take care of yourself and of yours----Let us know how you're all doing when you can, however briefly.

[Vick Forman]

Hey, don't be gone long, okay?

[Martijn]

I hope you will keep on writing. Well, anyway, I want to thank you for what you've written. Reading about Fluffy feels like reading about me when I was his age (I'm 27 now and at the very first level of sorting out my issues...). It helps a lot. Thanks!

[Jane]

I got online just now to see if I can find a replacement pitcher for my mother's very old but still working blender. And here I am reading your blog. I know exactly what you mean. We'll miss you!

[kim]

Good bye, sweet friend. I will miss your writing, but then I'll have more permanent writing to see when the novel's done.

xo