A Teenager’s Rebellion

AGAINST MY OWN MOTHER: THE REBELLIOUS TEENAGER WHO WANTS TO REVOLT, IS STILL FIERCELY ALIVE

I’m hunkered down this week in the small seaside town of Lunenburg, Nova Scotia. It’s a picturesque coastal village, full of colourful houses, fishing boats, and a working harbour.

For me it’s a step back in time because I’m staying at my mother’s house not far from town. She’s away right now, and this is the first time I’ve stayed in her home without her.

I’ve been peeking in her closet, her drawers, her freezers – a glimpse into her days and life.

And it brings up very childlike feelings for me.

The memory of being with her, of having her as my mother. It’s all still here, wrapped up in the way she does things. Her tidy way of labelling and organizing. Her pens, her journals, her stacks of books. Her binders full of poems and quotes and manuscripts.

You see, my mother is a writer, and whether she meant to or not, my love of words comes from her. She spent hours upon hours reading to us, and we never had to look hard to find a good book.

She filled our minds with magical tales of adventure. Indian in the Cupboard, Narnia, Little House on the Prairie…anything at all by E.B. White.

I used to fall asleep to the sound of her reading and when I woke up in the morning, never knew what had been from the book and what had been a dream

Although I’m almost 40, I still find myself wanting to reject the advice of my mother.

It’s wired in me, to be the rebellious teenager and revolt against her.

But here, in her house, it’s as if I’m simply feeling her energy, her spirit, and I’m being reminded of her quiet teachings, and I see what she has done for herself.

She has made space, time, and processes, in which she can write. She tends to it everyday, over time. And all of those small daily acts, have culminated in a full creative life.

It reminds me that creativity can and must, be nurtured. 

When I first started working on my book two years ago, I really just wanted it to be done. I wanted to know what the story was about, would a publisher read it, was it any good?

I wanted the outcome.

But as I have found, and as I see reflected here in my Mum’s home – the joy, the bliss, the adventure, is in the journey itself

It’s a lesson I have to continually learn and re-learn for myself. I constantly have to pull myself back, so I’m not rushing to get to the next place.

So I can enjoy the one place I’m already in.

Do you have a daily practice that you come back to that helps you stay in the present and create?

I’d love to hear about it. Let me know in the comments below.

Keep on seeking your wild and free my lovelies,

Becky

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