Writing My Own Myth(ic Life) – A Guest Post on Parchment and Quill

I find it interesting that this came to me, the words flowed, at least on this theme (hopefully more!) on this day that many (not all, I know) celebrate Mothers.  I personally celebrate the day before my son’s birthday.  I call it Mahmah’s Day, and I (try to) take it as a day for me, visiting a local botanical garden and a museum of natural history, as I did the day before he was born.  He was “late” and I did not want to be induced, so I tried to relax.  It had been raining for about a month.  It is raining (and snowing) today.  I don’t really celebrate today for myself as it is often around, if not on, my own birth-day.

But today words were born.

And maybe a new part of me and my life is too.

And that is something to celebrate.

Kerrie McNay, May 12, 2019

 

Last year I was asked to write a guest post for my friend H.E. Curtis’s blog, Parchment and Quill, about my experience as a parent and my involvement in the arts with my child.  It took me a few months to find the words, but I began as I do… with a list of KeyWords.  (See below.)

I found myself jotting down the names of mothers and daughters from stories, especially from the pantheon of Greek goddesses and my favorite fairy tales.  I thought of the fun little speech I made at our school’s open house, where I used some of my new circus skills (learned after my own child went to circus camp) to invite parents to join the Parent-Teacher Partnership, especially the importance of balance, and how it’s okay to “drop the ball” when juggling our lives.

In the end, I just let the words flow, writing them down as they came.

I hope you enjoy them, and definitely explore the rest of Parchment and Quill for more inspiring writing!

Guest Blog: Kerrie McNay- Writing My Own Myth(ic Life)

 

 

Parchment and Quill KeyWords

“Someone, Please Send Me…”

It has been a while since I have shared any of my writing- either old or new.

My voice… my writing voice, that is… has been quiet.

I *have* been writing, but none of it feels ready for sharing.

Not yet.

For now, I shall share a bit that I found while exploring old files from my young adult years.  Perhaps some time soon I’ll go back even further and type up some of my earliest poems from my adolescence.

If I could ask “Someone, please send me…” now, I would ask for my Voice.

But I am the Someone.

And only I can set it free.

 

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