Ceallaigh's Blog

A couple of weeks ago, I began to seriously consider an MFA at Goddard College. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the school, Goddard is a small college in Plainfield, Vermont with a reputation for being on the bleeding edge of liberal study. Just my style. =) The MFA offered there is a distance program with required on-site instruction one week each semester and welcomes writers from all corners of the industry; from poets and screenwriters to hardcore genre writers like myself. I’ve considered it often over the years, usually when I’m feeling the need for a boost in my writing skills, but ultimately I’ve always decided against it for various reasons.

I've recently mentioned that I'm self-publishing a chapbook of previously-published short stories and poems and that some months ago, I turned down a problematic contract for it. Unfortunately, that contract was likely the only one the chapbook will ever be offered for various reasons; it's specifically Pagan, it's a mix of fiction and poetry, it's short and I'm not a well-known writer who can sell on her name alone. Still, the pieces in it have passed through independent editorial processes, the collection is well-blurbed and a Pagan colleague introduces it.

I just finished my second run on the treadmill in three days. Every day this week, I've made time for meditation. I'm rediscovering an old friend in the positive, health-affirming work of Louise Hay. My journal is filling up with daily goals and the ways I've met them. I'm drinking tart lemon water by the quart and have indefinitely given up alcohol, caffeine, processed sugar and the few bad fats we vegans do eat.

As a result, my perspective is beginning to shift. My tolerance for negativity is decreasing, and so is my willingness to place myself in situations where I am forced to deal with the hurtful behavior of others. My fear for my health is transmuting into action, and I'm ready to change in order to be well.

Here's why.

We've just crossed the Canso causeway back into mainland Nova Scotia. It's 4:52 in the afternoon, our house paperwork is signed and there is a seal in our trunk that howls so loudly we're afraid to leave the car in a public place.

Perhaps I should backtrack a bit.

This morning actually began last night when I picked Sean up at the airport near midnight. An hour and a half later, we hit the sack knowing we'd have to be on the road early for a meet-and-greet with our new doctor in Cape Breton today. And so we were, coffee and toast in hand with me behind the wheel, which meant a few traffic laws were gently bent along the way.