Our lilacs had such a heady scent this spring, driving down roads near town, windows down I could catch whiffs of the sweet flowers. And after so much stuff, I finally felt renewed and healthy. My adventures in San Diego; truly feeling more at home in my post menapausal body and mind; a new project, and a sprinkling of words written for the next book. Perhaps this book will resonate and see publication. People tell me it’s remarkable I’ve completed a book…because so many people say they are writing a book and never finish it…blah blah…but it seems fruitless if it’s written but never published. Like why bother? But the praise I’m given is exactly what I would say to someone. The judgy and harsh interior dialogue is not my higher self but those fragments of bullshit I heard from teachers, a sibling, and parents. the disparaging interior dialogue is a tape spliced together with unique voices belching out negative messages meant to “help”. A caution so I don’t get my hopes up too high or think too highly of myself. But the voices are getting scratchy and worn, dragging in places, sped up in others. An old tape. Recently, I picture myself fast fowarding the tape so the voice is garbled and unintelligible to the point of needless white noise.

image and words copyright 2024 Laura Ann Klein