It’s a cool -4 degrees Celsius this morning.  I feel amazingly good.  I don’t question it.  I accept it as my good fortune.  The sun IS shining brightly.  Hallelujah!  I sip my Chai, oh so strong and sweet.  Mmmmm.  Feeling blessed as I sip and tap.

Writing for me is like meditating, the letting go and releasing.  This morning it is a little difficult as my furry neighbour next door and Sheba are having a noisy and excited good morning exchange.  Bow wow!  What do you do?  They are dogs behaving like dogs.

Peace is restored – for a little while.  Can I get back to the zen of the moment?  That is the trick of life, you know  – to return to your purpose again and again, no matter the distractions or how many times you have strayed off the path.  I find my way to the place I have left.  I try not to back track to the beginning.  Otherwise, I cannot get pass GO.  I will be stuck forever at the starting gate.

I’m spending a little time on why I write.  Here I go again! I’m asking the why of things.  Can’t leave that alone, can I? The thing that comes to mind is that it gives me pleasure. It is such a sensual thing, this tap, tapping on the keyboard.  I feel each letter and hear each click.  It’s rhythm soothes and excites me at the same time.

It’s a song and dance, a chorus line – the letters getting into position and kicking up their legs and waving their arms to form a line, a sentence, a paragraph….a story/number/dance.  Applause, applause and then encore.  That’s every artist’s hope.

Images and words comes come to me out of nowhere.  They float to me on wings of fancy, much like the ghosts of my childhood.  I feel them in me.  They take me to another place, outside of myself – to be that story, that dance, the Alice’s of my dreams.

I always sing and dance to my own tunes.  I hear myself after awhile – the  warble in my voice, the missed notes and out of steps.  It’s not a bad idea to come out of myself, to hear other stories and to watch other dances.  It is helpful to share and compare.  Everyone has a story, a song and a dance.

It’s in the sharing and daring to tell our stories that opens up the world to us.  Soon others give and receive in kind.  I write to enrich my life.  I am always reaching out there to touch a sister, a brother, a kindred spirit.  That’s the way of my mother, her father and mother and all her siblings.  I come by it honestly.  There is no other way for me.  We suffer for it.

People don’t always reciprocate.  Some don’t want to and some can’t.  I try not to ponder the why’s.  Through life’s journey, I have learned to accept and not to take it personally.  I have lost nothing in the process.  I am neither less nor more.  But I have created the possibility to receive more.  It is worth it.

I write because I love the words, the beauty they can capture on a page.  They crystallize those whimsical images and ideas that come to me from outer space.  On a good day, I am able to tap them out onto the screen.  On a good day I can make them sing and dance for me. Today is a good day for me.  It is cold but my office is bathed in the warmth of the sun. Sheba is laying peacefully on the floor while my furry neighbour smiles at us from across the fence.

Want to sing and dance together?  I’m not good at duets but I’m willing to try.