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2024-10-27
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} .dropdown-toggle:hover, .dropdown-toggle:focus, .widget hr { background-color: rgba( 255, 255, 255, 0.1); } .widget input:focus, .widget textarea:focus { border-color: rgba( 255, 255, 255, 0.3); } .sidebar a:focus, .dropdown-toggle:focus { outline-color: rgba( 255, 255, 255, 0.3); } } /style>link relstylesheet idtwentyfifteen-block-style-css hrefhttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/themes/twentyfifteen/css/blocks.css?ver20190102 mediaall />!--if lt IE 9>link relstylesheet idtwentyfifteen-ie-css hrefhttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/themes/twentyfifteen/css/ie.css?ver20170916 mediaall />!endif-->!--if lt IE 8>link relstylesheet idtwentyfifteen-ie7-css hrefhttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/themes/twentyfifteen/css/ie7.css?ver20141210 mediaall />!endif-->script srchttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-includes/js/jquery/jquery.js?ver1.12.4-wp>/script>script srchttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-includes/js/jquery/jquery-migrate.min.js?ver1.4.1>/script>link relhttps://api.w.org/ hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-json/ />link relEditURI typeapplication/rsd+xml titleRSD hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/xmlrpc.php?rsd />link relwlwmanifest typeapplication/wlwmanifest+xml hrefhttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-includes/wlwmanifest.xml /> meta namegenerator contentWordPress 5.4.16 />style idcustom-background-css>body.custom-background { background-color: #ffffff; }/style> link relicon hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/111017-starry-sky-150x150.png sizes32x32 />link relicon hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/111017-starry-sky.png sizes192x192 />link relapple-touch-icon hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/111017-starry-sky.png />meta namemsapplication-TileImage contenthttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/111017-starry-sky.png />/head>body classhome blog custom-background wp-embed-responsive>div idpage classhfeed site> a classskip-link screen-reader-text href#content>Skip to content/a> div idsidebar classsidebar> header idmasthead classsite-header rolebanner> div classsite-branding> h1 classsite-title>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/ relhome>14 Seconds to Midnight/a>/h1> button classsecondary-toggle>Menu and widgets/button> /div>!-- .site-branding --> /header>!-- .site-header --> div idsecondary classsecondary> div idwidget-area classwidget-area rolecomplementary> aside idtext-3 classwidget widget_text>h2 classwidget-title>Writing our becoming/h2> div classtextwidget>p>If you map the history of our universe to a calendar year — its birth Jan 1, our current age Dec 31 — at fourteen seconds to midnight on Dec 31, writing is invented. This blog enters the invention of self at the invention of writing, to explore thresholds, loss, recovery and rediscovery./p>p>em>*Thanks to the award winning documentary, /em>Cosmos: A Spacetime Odysseyem>, for the calendar map of spacetime.br />/em>/p>/div> /aside> /div>!-- .widget-area --> /div>!-- .secondary --> /div>!-- .sidebar --> div idcontent classsite-content> div idprimary classcontent-area> main idmain classsite-main rolemain> article idpost-30 classpost-30 post type-post status-publish format-standard hentry category-uncategorized> header classentry-header> h2 classentry-title>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2018/01/07/habitable-change/ relbookmark>Habitable change/a>/h2> /header>!-- .entry-header --> div classentry-content> h3>Thresholds/h3>p>Is any part of life not a threshold? I have been wondering this. Micro. Macro. If we’re ever evolving and growing, is any part of our lived experience not in a process becoming something new, something else?/p>p>House. Structure comes to mind. A house is a house is a house. (Or apartment, or garage, or basement ADU…) It may or may not be becoming something new, something else. Unless you add into it layers of occupants’ emotional experience, days and years of ritual, memory, life moving through it, it holding life in its vessel, then you could argue that its becoming is in relationship with its people./p>p>A medium once told me, when she was reading for romance, that my apartment was my primary relationship, and I agreed with her. I loved that apartment, and I’m pretty sure it loved me back as my life changed between its walls./p>h3>Habitable change/h3>p>Thresholds. When I think of recovery in action, I think of thresholds, maybe not just one–i.e., that one year I understood that my life had become unmanageable, and so I went into recovery–but rather, many thresholds inside of recovery: the day I sat and listened to others speak, and heard my story from strangers who I thought couldn’t be more different than me; that day, months later, I realized it was time to start the steps, inviting habitable change into my life; those moments I see myself making new choices that have more space and freedom in them, choices that make me feel happy-sad-grown and as-whole-as-I’ve-been./p>p>I hear people speak in Al-Anon who have been participants in the program for 30 years. 17 years. 12 years. I heard a woman share yesterday that she had been in Al-Anon throughout her teen years and now she’s back. Listening across the room, I quietly marvel at these long-timers. Recovery as a constant. Thresholds as a constant. Impermanence in the flesh. Commitment on the sandy ground of self as its been defined, and self as we’re redefining it. Recommitment over a lifetime. To the acceptance of habitable change. To making change habitable./p>h3>Structure fires/h3>p>On average, I’ve moved every 1.5 years. Most of the time, I haven’t even noticed that I’m moving again, it’s just flow, the flow I know. It’s been to new habitations. A different home, a different city, a different reason. Oh, we’re going? Okay, let’s go. When considering the opportunity of the last move we made, across the country, I thought, “What do people do? How do people decide? What makes people stay? How do they know when to go?” I had thought that at this new point in my life, because we’d gotten married and bought a house, we’d be settling in, and this settling in would be a new experience. But a year and half later, we were selling the house and moving across the country, because, people go, right? When they’re called?/p>p>My moves, over the past 25 years, while they felt conscious at the time, thrilling at each prospect ahead, were change of habitation by way of escape, first mine at 19, necessary, and then, I finally came to notice, a mirror repeat of the escape that came before mine, the escape that started it all when I was one-and-a-half and mama slipped off and away. I’ve inhabited that kind of change. Lived always in that threshold of new, renew./p>h3>Restructure/h3>p>Living in thresholds. Old: habitation change. Dawning: Habitable change./p>p>Consequential explorer./p>p> /p>p> /p> /div>!-- .entry-content --> footer classentry-footer> span classposted-on>span classscreen-reader-text>Posted on /span>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2018/01/07/habitable-change/ relbookmark>time classentry-date published updated datetime2018-01-07T16:16:57+00:00>January 7, 2018/time>/a>/span> /footer>!-- .entry-footer -->/article>!-- #post-30 -->article idpost-24 classpost-24 post type-post status-publish format-quote hentry category-uncategorized post_format-post-format-quote> header classentry-header> h2 classentry-title>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2017/11/27/i-have-reasons/ relbookmark>I Have Reason(s)/a>/h2> /header>!-- .entry-header --> div classentry-content> p>em>Let me tell you ALL the reasons I shouldn’t put this blog into the world./em>/p>ul>li>Fear/li>/ul>p>That’s it. End of list./p>p>em>Here’s a sampling of the fears that threaten the existence of this blog most every day./em>/p>ul>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Being public/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Getting thieved/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Distortion of the ideas, which are in their nature exploration/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Being disbelieved/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Paralysis after negative feedback/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Paralysis after positive feedback/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Quitting/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Not knowing how/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Not doing it right/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Saying stupid shit/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Feeling like a jerk for being ignorant/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Shame of that/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Getting silenced/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Silencing myself/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Making this list/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Making this list public/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Mean readers/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Disappointing the people who are depending on me/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Who is depending on me?/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Secrets/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Sharing too much/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Not knowing what to say/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Having to debate my experience/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Bigotry, apathy, self-loathing/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Materializing long enough to say I’M HERE/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Coming back after disappearing/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Forgetting that recovery is lifelong/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>…/li>/ul>p>em>And here’s a list of reasons I love this call-to-adventure to write a recovery blog./em>/p>ul>li>I love the feel of the keyboard under my fingers, like I loved the feel of the piano keys as a kid./li>li>I love the engagement of writing for readers, the ideas that get pulled from way way down when someone’s listening, receiving, versus when I’m writing, say, to a blank page in a journal./li>li>I love a blog dashboard, and the endless things you can build with the buttons. It’s like an advent calendar you can open all year long./li>li>I love that thrill at each step of making, shaping, sharing, letting go./li>li>I love having come to recognize the corporeal reality of em>to recover/em>: We suit up. We go back. We pick up your slumped body from the ground. We take you home. We nurture you to as close to whole as we can at any one time. With love and tools. Modeling compassion. Witness. Reality. Recovery is love and traction. Breath and reason(s). One step and the next. Forward and back./li>/ul>p> /p>p>Inspirers considered in this piece as I wrote it:/p>p>strong>a hrefhttp://lawriterslab.com>Al Watt/a>:/strong> One of his first assignments is to write what you’re afraid of about writing a piece./p>p>strong>a hrefhttp://michaellennox.com>Michael Lennox/a>:/strong> Astrologer who wrote and taught about the recent new moon in Scorpio, with transformative tools to go deep and integrate shadow./p>p>strong>a hrefhttps://www.juliedaley.com>Julie Daley/a>:/strong> Life coach, creative coach, executive coach, thinker, divine creatrix, writer/p>p>strong>a hrefhttp://www.corporealwriting.com>Corporeal Writing/a>:/strong> Lidia Yuknavitch’s powerhouse of a span styletext-decoration: line-through;>coven/span> writing den./p> /div>!-- .entry-content --> footer classentry-footer> span classentry-format>span classscreen-reader-text>Format /span>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/type/quote/>Quote/a>/span>span classposted-on>span classscreen-reader-text>Posted on /span>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2017/11/27/i-have-reasons/ relbookmark>time classentry-date published datetime2017-11-27T18:45:00+00:00>November 27, 2017/time>time classupdated datetime2017-11-27T20:44:57+00:00>November 27, 2017/time>/a>/span> /footer>!-- .entry-footer -->/article>!-- #post-24 -->article idpost-9 classpost-9 post type-post status-publish format-standard hentry category-uncategorized> header classentry-header> h2 classentry-title>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2017/11/11/fourteen-seconds-to-midnight/ relbookmark>Fourteen Seconds to Midnight/a>/h2> /header>!-- .entry-header --> div classentry-content> p>In 2014, I had just gotten married. I was sitting on a spring-green couch in a little cottage in San Francisco, where we had fun neighbors, a lemon tree that fruited 11 months out of the year, and mere months till we’d find, buy and move into our first home purchase, an hour’s drive away. It was an in-between time that I didn’t pay attention to as impermanent. It felt full and sweet, rich and lasting./p>p>We were watching the much hyped new TV series, em>Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey/em>, and somewhere in the unfolding of all of that science and history, the presenter, who had been mapping the history of the universe to a calendar year, said that at 14 seconds to midnight on the last day of the year, writing was invented. A writer, myself, a lover of words, a non-scientist appreciator of science in story, I was charmed. That placement of writing in the history of the cosmos felt important to me. It gave traction and gravity to imagination, record-making, beginnings (and middles and ends). I pulled my laptop over to the green couch and bought the URL./p>p>At that time in the little cottage, I was also enduring a crisis of identity. My love of words and story and exploration wasn’t enough to get me writing them. I was shying away from public exposure, confused by a belief that success meant internet famous, having something to say meant being the authority on the topic, and thus telling readers what to do on some level. Further, I was limited by my business brand…and on a personal level, this new status of “married” felt tender and mine, and I wasn’t sure who I was or what I thought just yet, and how or what stories I wanted to tell./p>p>So “14 seconds to midnight,” the URL, became a little piece of poetry glimmering in the night sky that might someday turn into a destination, and might only glimmer there in its poetic potential./p>p>Until today. Today I am six weeks into recovery. And you know? Who knew that I, as someone without evident addictions, from parents without evident addictions, would find a profound fit in the fellowship rooms of 12-step? Six weeks ago I wandered into an Al-Anon meeting and listened to the stories sing into me and awaken mine. I kept going, day after day, and kept hearing stories that made me ring like a tuning fork, and with the structure of the meeting, I began to find words to share of my own. People nodded as I talked. They related with mine too./p>p>With the encouragement of my ever remarkable coach, Julie, who reminded me that desire is intelligence — an original urge has information that gets revealed only upon following it — I’m taking the experience of recovery in action, and blowing life into to a poetic glimmer./p>p>The thresholds of a midnight hold volumes: gains and loss, discovery, recovery and exploration. The breakdown and reinvention of a life, a day in a life. There is room for it here. Room to find and unfold, room to become./p>p> /p>p> /p> /div>!-- .entry-content --> footer classentry-footer> span classposted-on>span classscreen-reader-text>Posted on /span>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2017/11/11/fourteen-seconds-to-midnight/ relbookmark>time classentry-date published updated datetime2017-11-11T01:28:32+00:00>November 11, 2017/time>/a>/span> /footer>!-- .entry-footer -->/article>!-- #post-9 --> /main>!-- .site-main --> /div>!-- .content-area --> /div>!-- .site-content --> footer idcolophon classsite-footer rolecontentinfo> div classsite-info> a hrefhttps://wordpress.org/ classimprint> Proudly powered by WordPress /a> /div>!-- .site-info --> /footer>!-- .site-footer -->/div>!-- .site -->script srchttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/themes/twentyfifteen/js/skip-link-focus-fix.js?ver20141028>/script>script>var screenReaderText {expand:span class\screen-reader-text\>expand child menu\/span>,collapse:span class\screen-reader-text\>collapse child menu\/span>};/script>script srchttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/themes/twentyfifteen/js/functions.js?ver20171218>/script>script srchttp://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js?ver5.4.16>/script>/body>/html>
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}/style> link relicon hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/111017-starry-sky-150x150.png sizes32x32 />link relicon hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/111017-starry-sky.png sizes192x192 />link relapple-touch-icon hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/111017-starry-sky.png />meta namemsapplication-TileImage contenthttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/111017-starry-sky.png />/head>body classhome blog custom-background wp-embed-responsive>div idpage classhfeed site> a classskip-link screen-reader-text href#content>Skip to content/a> div idsidebar classsidebar> header idmasthead classsite-header rolebanner> div classsite-branding> h1 classsite-title>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/ relhome>14 Seconds to Midnight/a>/h1> button classsecondary-toggle>Menu and widgets/button> /div>!-- .site-branding --> /header>!-- .site-header --> div idsecondary classsecondary> div idwidget-area classwidget-area rolecomplementary> aside idtext-3 classwidget widget_text>h2 classwidget-title>Writing our becoming/h2> div classtextwidget>p>If you map the history of our universe to a calendar year — its birth Jan 1, our current age Dec 31 — at fourteen seconds to midnight on Dec 31, writing is invented. This blog enters the invention of self at the invention of writing, to explore thresholds, loss, recovery and rediscovery./p>p>em>*Thanks to the award winning documentary, /em>Cosmos: A Spacetime Odysseyem>, for the calendar map of spacetime.br />/em>/p>/div> /aside> /div>!-- .widget-area --> /div>!-- .secondary --> /div>!-- .sidebar --> div idcontent classsite-content> div idprimary classcontent-area> main idmain classsite-main rolemain> article idpost-30 classpost-30 post type-post status-publish format-standard hentry category-uncategorized> header classentry-header> h2 classentry-title>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2018/01/07/habitable-change/ relbookmark>Habitable change/a>/h2> /header>!-- .entry-header --> div classentry-content> h3>Thresholds/h3>p>Is any part of life not a threshold? I have been wondering this. Micro. Macro. If we’re ever evolving and growing, is any part of our lived experience not in a process becoming something new, something else?/p>p>House. Structure comes to mind. A house is a house is a house. (Or apartment, or garage, or basement ADU…) It may or may not be becoming something new, something else. Unless you add into it layers of occupants’ emotional experience, days and years of ritual, memory, life moving through it, it holding life in its vessel, then you could argue that its becoming is in relationship with its people./p>p>A medium once told me, when she was reading for romance, that my apartment was my primary relationship, and I agreed with her. I loved that apartment, and I’m pretty sure it loved me back as my life changed between its walls./p>h3>Habitable change/h3>p>Thresholds. When I think of recovery in action, I think of thresholds, maybe not just one–i.e., that one year I understood that my life had become unmanageable, and so I went into recovery–but rather, many thresholds inside of recovery: the day I sat and listened to others speak, and heard my story from strangers who I thought couldn’t be more different than me; that day, months later, I realized it was time to start the steps, inviting habitable change into my life; those moments I see myself making new choices that have more space and freedom in them, choices that make me feel happy-sad-grown and as-whole-as-I’ve-been./p>p>I hear people speak in Al-Anon who have been participants in the program for 30 years. 17 years. 12 years. I heard a woman share yesterday that she had been in Al-Anon throughout her teen years and now she’s back. Listening across the room, I quietly marvel at these long-timers. Recovery as a constant. Thresholds as a constant. Impermanence in the flesh. Commitment on the sandy ground of self as its been defined, and self as we’re redefining it. Recommitment over a lifetime. To the acceptance of habitable change. To making change habitable./p>h3>Structure fires/h3>p>On average, I’ve moved every 1.5 years. Most of the time, I haven’t even noticed that I’m moving again, it’s just flow, the flow I know. It’s been to new habitations. A different home, a different city, a different reason. Oh, we’re going? Okay, let’s go. When considering the opportunity of the last move we made, across the country, I thought, “What do people do? How do people decide? What makes people stay? How do they know when to go?” I had thought that at this new point in my life, because we’d gotten married and bought a house, we’d be settling in, and this settling in would be a new experience. But a year and half later, we were selling the house and moving across the country, because, people go, right? When they’re called?/p>p>My moves, over the past 25 years, while they felt conscious at the time, thrilling at each prospect ahead, were change of habitation by way of escape, first mine at 19, necessary, and then, I finally came to notice, a mirror repeat of the escape that came before mine, the escape that started it all when I was one-and-a-half and mama slipped off and away. I’ve inhabited that kind of change. Lived always in that threshold of new, renew./p>h3>Restructure/h3>p>Living in thresholds. Old: habitation change. Dawning: Habitable change./p>p>Consequential explorer./p>p> /p>p> /p> /div>!-- .entry-content --> footer classentry-footer> span classposted-on>span classscreen-reader-text>Posted on /span>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2018/01/07/habitable-change/ relbookmark>time classentry-date published updated datetime2018-01-07T16:16:57+00:00>January 7, 2018/time>/a>/span> /footer>!-- .entry-footer -->/article>!-- #post-30 -->article idpost-24 classpost-24 post type-post status-publish format-quote hentry category-uncategorized post_format-post-format-quote> header classentry-header> h2 classentry-title>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2017/11/27/i-have-reasons/ relbookmark>I Have Reason(s)/a>/h2> /header>!-- .entry-header --> div classentry-content> p>em>Let me tell you ALL the reasons I shouldn’t put this blog into the world./em>/p>ul>li>Fear/li>/ul>p>That’s it. End of list./p>p>em>Here’s a sampling of the fears that threaten the existence of this blog most every day./em>/p>ul>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Being public/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Getting thieved/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Distortion of the ideas, which are in their nature exploration/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Being disbelieved/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Paralysis after negative feedback/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Paralysis after positive feedback/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Quitting/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Not knowing how/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Not doing it right/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Saying stupid shit/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Feeling like a jerk for being ignorant/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Shame of that/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Getting silenced/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Silencing myself/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Making this list/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Making this list public/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Mean readers/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Disappointing the people who are depending on me/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Who is depending on me?/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Secrets/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Sharing too much/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Not knowing what to say/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Having to debate my experience/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Bigotry, apathy, self-loathing/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Materializing long enough to say I’M HERE/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Coming back after disappearing/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>Forgetting that recovery is lifelong/li>li stylepadding-left: 30px;>…/li>/ul>p>em>And here’s a list of reasons I love this call-to-adventure to write a recovery blog./em>/p>ul>li>I love the feel of the keyboard under my fingers, like I loved the feel of the piano keys as a kid./li>li>I love the engagement of writing for readers, the ideas that get pulled from way way down when someone’s listening, receiving, versus when I’m writing, say, to a blank page in a journal./li>li>I love a blog dashboard, and the endless things you can build with the buttons. It’s like an advent calendar you can open all year long./li>li>I love that thrill at each step of making, shaping, sharing, letting go./li>li>I love having come to recognize the corporeal reality of em>to recover/em>: We suit up. We go back. We pick up your slumped body from the ground. We take you home. We nurture you to as close to whole as we can at any one time. With love and tools. Modeling compassion. Witness. Reality. Recovery is love and traction. Breath and reason(s). One step and the next. Forward and back./li>/ul>p> /p>p>Inspirers considered in this piece as I wrote it:/p>p>strong>a hrefhttp://lawriterslab.com>Al Watt/a>:/strong> One of his first assignments is to write what you’re afraid of about writing a piece./p>p>strong>a hrefhttp://michaellennox.com>Michael Lennox/a>:/strong> Astrologer who wrote and taught about the recent new moon in Scorpio, with transformative tools to go deep and integrate shadow./p>p>strong>a hrefhttps://www.juliedaley.com>Julie Daley/a>:/strong> Life coach, creative coach, executive coach, thinker, divine creatrix, writer/p>p>strong>a hrefhttp://www.corporealwriting.com>Corporeal Writing/a>:/strong> Lidia Yuknavitch’s powerhouse of a span styletext-decoration: line-through;>coven/span> writing den./p> /div>!-- .entry-content --> footer classentry-footer> span classentry-format>span classscreen-reader-text>Format /span>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/type/quote/>Quote/a>/span>span classposted-on>span classscreen-reader-text>Posted on /span>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2017/11/27/i-have-reasons/ relbookmark>time classentry-date published datetime2017-11-27T18:45:00+00:00>November 27, 2017/time>time classupdated datetime2017-11-27T20:44:57+00:00>November 27, 2017/time>/a>/span> /footer>!-- .entry-footer -->/article>!-- #post-24 -->article idpost-9 classpost-9 post type-post status-publish format-standard hentry category-uncategorized> header classentry-header> h2 classentry-title>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2017/11/11/fourteen-seconds-to-midnight/ relbookmark>Fourteen Seconds to Midnight/a>/h2> /header>!-- .entry-header --> div classentry-content> p>In 2014, I had just gotten married. I was sitting on a spring-green couch in a little cottage in San Francisco, where we had fun neighbors, a lemon tree that fruited 11 months out of the year, and mere months till we’d find, buy and move into our first home purchase, an hour’s drive away. It was an in-between time that I didn’t pay attention to as impermanent. It felt full and sweet, rich and lasting./p>p>We were watching the much hyped new TV series, em>Cosmos: A Spacetime Odyssey/em>, and somewhere in the unfolding of all of that science and history, the presenter, who had been mapping the history of the universe to a calendar year, said that at 14 seconds to midnight on the last day of the year, writing was invented. A writer, myself, a lover of words, a non-scientist appreciator of science in story, I was charmed. That placement of writing in the history of the cosmos felt important to me. It gave traction and gravity to imagination, record-making, beginnings (and middles and ends). I pulled my laptop over to the green couch and bought the URL./p>p>At that time in the little cottage, I was also enduring a crisis of identity. My love of words and story and exploration wasn’t enough to get me writing them. I was shying away from public exposure, confused by a belief that success meant internet famous, having something to say meant being the authority on the topic, and thus telling readers what to do on some level. Further, I was limited by my business brand…and on a personal level, this new status of “married” felt tender and mine, and I wasn’t sure who I was or what I thought just yet, and how or what stories I wanted to tell./p>p>So “14 seconds to midnight,” the URL, became a little piece of poetry glimmering in the night sky that might someday turn into a destination, and might only glimmer there in its poetic potential./p>p>Until today. Today I am six weeks into recovery. And you know? Who knew that I, as someone without evident addictions, from parents without evident addictions, would find a profound fit in the fellowship rooms of 12-step? Six weeks ago I wandered into an Al-Anon meeting and listened to the stories sing into me and awaken mine. I kept going, day after day, and kept hearing stories that made me ring like a tuning fork, and with the structure of the meeting, I began to find words to share of my own. People nodded as I talked. They related with mine too./p>p>With the encouragement of my ever remarkable coach, Julie, who reminded me that desire is intelligence — an original urge has information that gets revealed only upon following it — I’m taking the experience of recovery in action, and blowing life into to a poetic glimmer./p>p>The thresholds of a midnight hold volumes: gains and loss, discovery, recovery and exploration. The breakdown and reinvention of a life, a day in a life. There is room for it here. Room to find and unfold, room to become./p>p> /p>p> /p> /div>!-- .entry-content --> footer classentry-footer> span classposted-on>span classscreen-reader-text>Posted on /span>a hrefhttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/2017/11/11/fourteen-seconds-to-midnight/ relbookmark>time classentry-date published updated datetime2017-11-11T01:28:32+00:00>November 11, 2017/time>/a>/span> /footer>!-- .entry-footer -->/article>!-- #post-9 --> /main>!-- .site-main --> /div>!-- .content-area --> /div>!-- .site-content --> footer idcolophon classsite-footer rolecontentinfo> div classsite-info> a hrefhttps://wordpress.org/ classimprint> Proudly powered by WordPress /a> /div>!-- .site-info --> /footer>!-- .site-footer -->/div>!-- .site -->script srchttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/themes/twentyfifteen/js/skip-link-focus-fix.js?ver20141028>/script>script>var screenReaderText {expand:span class\screen-reader-text\>expand child menu\/span>,collapse:span class\screen-reader-text\>collapse child menu\/span>};/script>script srchttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-content/themes/twentyfifteen/js/functions.js?ver20171218>/script>script srchttps://www.14secondstomidnight.com/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js?ver5.4.16>/script>/body>/html>
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