I Can Do Brave All By Myself. Kinda. Sorta. Not Really. (Pt. 1)

Courtesy D. Scott

I should not be left alone without my minder. My friends will testify if you ask them. I've been seized up by wanderlust about half my life but too scared and too fiscally conservative to do much about it. That $$ thing made it easy to give in to my inner fraidy cat and avoid the new and novel. Till about a year ago.

Last year this time, my counselor told me she had 2 objectives for me. 1) Conquer the cat. 2) Write. With regards to the latter, she had some experience. She was a former English teacher whose students won some pretty big awards under her mentoring. The next time I saw her, she handed me a slip of paper. “This conference is coming up. They have scholarships. Apply. Don't plan to see me again till you do.”

Kinda uppity for someone that I'm paying to work for me, doncha think? She's tiny and soft spoken. She wields that sugar-melting-voice with cunning and mesmerizing power. I broke out in a sweat because I couldn't have my next counseling fix till I made her command my wish. About that time in my life, my only wish was to hibernate for the rest of my natural born days.

Courtesy and In Loving Memory of Christina Jones Hooker

I did what little sisters do. I called my brother expecting him to help me figure a way out of the deal. I think she got to him first. About 30” after I told him I had worked up the gumption to apply purely because I knew I wouldn't actually earn a scholarship or have to follow thru on my application, my phone rang. conference

In short order, he told me not to worry about the scholarship committee's decision. My registration was booked: lock, stock, and barrel. He had done what honorable big brothers, who can and will, do. He had become my patron. I felt like Michelangelo living on the good will of Lorenzo de Medici.

Give a man an inch with that patron thing, and he'll take a mile. He'll do so by enlisting the help of your husband, sons, sister, and father. The next thing you know, you'll be at your third writing related conference in less than a year, two of which required plane rides.

Courtesy A. Hughes

Last night, I did what fraidy cats do. I panicked in rare form. The southern term 'hissy fit' describes how I felt on the inside. What was I thinking? Why do I DO this to myself? Why do I keep putting me out there to scare myself to death all over again. Ya'll think I'm kidding. I'm not. You can ask my three testosterone units.

I've developed a certain comfort level with the writing community I've navigated this last year. So, I got too big for my britches and decided to entertain my wanderlust. Expand my wandering horizons you might say. Meet new people. Networking is the name of the game, you know. I should be careful what I think about when I'm left to my own devices. My minder had the day off. That's how I got in this mess.

I saw a conference that catered to homeschool bloggers and thought, “Hmmm...,I wonder.” Then I realized I would be spittin' close to another Aspie mom I've known via the net, for most of 14 years. I've only spoken with her once: on 9/11. Despite that, we've stayed in touch for all this time thru thick, thin, and thinnest. So, I found myself thinking, “Oh...I wonder...what if...?”

My patron took my entertaining idea and decided daydreams should become reality. He enlisted the troops. Again. The rest is history. Or will be on Sunday when my plane wheels hit terra firma again. At which time I will promise me (and anyone else who might be listening as I get down and kiss the good old red southern clay), I won't do “that” again.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

I'm here in one piece. I didn't lock the keys to my life in the hotel shuttle. My room key is safely in a pouch I had a plastic surgeon craft on my hip, so I couldn't loose it. Yea. I know. If I wasn't a fraidy cat, I woulda spent that money on liposuction and rid myself of a school bus sized load of cellulite. But, beggars can't be choosers. I've learned about me and keys when I'm let loose to run amok.

In just a little while, my Aspie mom friend and I are gonna lay eyes on each other for the first time in all these years. I'm gonna probably get teary-eyed thinking about what a difference a year makes. We'll raise a toast to the troops back home. When I lay down tonight, I think I'm gonna know how Michelangelo must of felt when he got to do what he loved because someone believed in him.

Courtesy Mad Penguin Creative

Well, fraidy cat, what about you? Can you do brave all by yourself? Yea, I thought not. That's why I am trying to create this little pocket of cyberspace for all of us to come home to. It might not be the Sistine Chapel, but I hope you will come and go and feel a little more inspired than you did when you got here. Truth is, you inspired me this year more than you'll ever know. I kept writing because you kept coming...even when I had to take some time off to deal with life. Love you long and strong. We'll get thru this fraidy cat world together. See you soon? 

Ecclesiastes 4: 9,10

Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!