I adore books. I read constantly, at least a book every 2 weeks. I love learning and exploring worlds I've never seen and all the wonder that a new book can hold. So, when Amy Palko announced her Summer Read-along of The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, I jumped right in. This is my first time reading it, and I have gotten to page 284. Even though I've seen the movie and know the ending, the book is so beautiful that I find it harder and harder to put it down.
There are many messages in this book about love and time and memory, but the passage that I keep coming to over and over again is this:
"I am having a hard time, in my tiny bedroom studio, in the beginning of my married life. The space that I can call mine, that isn’t full of Henry, is so small that my ideas have become small. I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches for sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space. I make maquettes, tiny sculptures that are rehearsals for huge sculptures. Every day the ideas come more reluctantly, as though they know I will starve them and stunt their growth. At night I dream about color, about submerging my arms into vats of paper fibre. I dream about miniature gardens I can’t set foot in because I am a giantess. .... The magic I can make is small magic now, deferred magic. Every day I work, but nothing ever materializes."
I feel a great connection to Clare here, because I too have seen my dreams and creations shrink to fit the space I had. For the last two years, my husband and I have been in a very small space. We have a bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen. We have no privacy because my parent's pool is in our kitchen and no separate space to get away from each other. I am a creative, artsy craftsy person and I love to make things with my hands. While we've been here, I haven't been creating or drawing or painting or feeding my soul in all those wonderful ways. I have felt myself receding away piece by piece. My inner muse was in hibernation and I was just going through the motions of life, without much real connection or meaning for myself.
In the beginning of this year, my sleeping giant woke up and I have spent this year growing and developing myself again. I have been taking art courses online and learning to create mandalas and writing again. I have found life coaching and a way to fulfill my purpose by helping other women to rekindle their own passions as I've rediscovered mine. I am leaping out into the great unknown to make my dreams come true. I am dancing again and dreaming big dreams and creating my best life. I feel like Alice in Wonderland when she eats the cake and keeps getting bigger and bigger. I look at the full moon and feel my own expansion growing to match. We are looking for a house of our own so that I can continue to grow and expand and flourish in a sacred room of my own. But even without that room, I refuse to let my magic be diminished. And I encourage you to make sure your magic isn't squashed either. The world deserves our biggest and brightest dreams.
There are many messages in this book about love and time and memory, but the passage that I keep coming to over and over again is this:
"I am having a hard time, in my tiny bedroom studio, in the beginning of my married life. The space that I can call mine, that isn’t full of Henry, is so small that my ideas have become small. I am like a caterpillar in a cocoon of paper; all around me are sketches for sculptures, small drawings that seem like moths fluttering against the windows, beating their wings to escape from this tiny space. I make maquettes, tiny sculptures that are rehearsals for huge sculptures. Every day the ideas come more reluctantly, as though they know I will starve them and stunt their growth. At night I dream about color, about submerging my arms into vats of paper fibre. I dream about miniature gardens I can’t set foot in because I am a giantess. .... The magic I can make is small magic now, deferred magic. Every day I work, but nothing ever materializes."
I feel a great connection to Clare here, because I too have seen my dreams and creations shrink to fit the space I had. For the last two years, my husband and I have been in a very small space. We have a bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen. We have no privacy because my parent's pool is in our kitchen and no separate space to get away from each other. I am a creative, artsy craftsy person and I love to make things with my hands. While we've been here, I haven't been creating or drawing or painting or feeding my soul in all those wonderful ways. I have felt myself receding away piece by piece. My inner muse was in hibernation and I was just going through the motions of life, without much real connection or meaning for myself.
In the beginning of this year, my sleeping giant woke up and I have spent this year growing and developing myself again. I have been taking art courses online and learning to create mandalas and writing again. I have found life coaching and a way to fulfill my purpose by helping other women to rekindle their own passions as I've rediscovered mine. I am leaping out into the great unknown to make my dreams come true. I am dancing again and dreaming big dreams and creating my best life. I feel like Alice in Wonderland when she eats the cake and keeps getting bigger and bigger. I look at the full moon and feel my own expansion growing to match. We are looking for a house of our own so that I can continue to grow and expand and flourish in a sacred room of my own. But even without that room, I refuse to let my magic be diminished. And I encourage you to make sure your magic isn't squashed either. The world deserves our biggest and brightest dreams.
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