Tag Archives: why I write

MONDAY, MONDAY

Posted on by
Reply

Monday morning coming down. May 11th, the calendar pages are advancing. The sun is out shining bright. My day has started. Breakfast over and done with. I’ve shaped my sourdough loaves. They are chilling in the fridge. They can chill up to 24 hours. The longer they stay, the tastier and more stable they get. That is what they say. Maybe I will wait to bake them tomorrow morning and test out the theory.

My Sheba and I are growing old together. She has a little more white than I do. Her hips are worse off, too, giving her trouble these last couple of weeks. I try not to feel too bad or sad when I see her stumble. She still loves her walks and able to go up and down the deck stairs. There’s a few more things I can do to help her like doing range of motion on her hips. She’s content to let me massage and brush her, even on her backend. She is already on fish oils and glucosamine. I will try to wean a little weight off her. It will be a task as she loves food. I’m adding a little ground flax to her food and see if that will help. I hear that cumin is a good anti inflammatory. We will check with the vet.

Mornings are my best time. It is late afternoon. My mood and energy are sagging and dragging the floor. It is impossible to work on the hard stuff when I’m feeling thus. Bad habits are hard to break but I did get the kohlrabi and broccoli seedlings transplanted. They were beyond leggy and flopping over. Gardening has not been easy this year. I keep plodding along. I will be glad for my persistence and efforts come harvest time. I think of the reward to keep myself moving along.

Excuse my monotone. I’m struggling to finish this post. I find myself struggling with everything. I just have to take life in smaller bites and swallows these days. You wonder why I bother with my mutterings. Sometimes I wonder, too. But I’m the better for showing up here. It gives me order to my day. The rhythm of the keys tapping calms and soothes me. It gives me purpose. It records my moods, problems and helps me find workable solutions. It keeps me sane.

 

THE WHYS OF MY WRITING

Posted on by
6

Do you like to write? If you do, why?

I have this compulsion and obsession to write because I love words, the sound of them and the beauty they can create stringing them together. I love how the letters, words and sentences march across the screen as I sit here tap, tapping. I write often/all the time for comfort. I write for the sound of a friendly voice, my own. I write to find objectivity, clarity, wisdom and whatever comes up in the conversation. I write to find and love myself as this poem expresses so beautifully.

Love After Love – Derek Walcott

The time will come 
when, with elation 
you will greet yourself arriving 
at your own door, in your own mirror 
and each will smile at the other’s welcome, 

and say, sit here. Eat. 
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart 
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you 

all your life, whom you ignored 
for another, who knows you by heart. 
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, 

the photographs, the desperate notes, 
peel your own image from the mirror. 
Sit. Feast on your life.

I feel the need of comfort today. The wind blows and howls all day as if someone is suffering and crying. I feel the unease of someone walking over my grave. The sun and cloud vies for dominance, casting shifting shadows over the landscape. I hug myself for comfort. Really I would like to be in bed with the covers over my head. But I hear this voice saying, You can run but you can’t hide. So here I am, facing the music, tap, tapping away a bit of the fear. There’s nowhere to run.

 

THE WHY’S (WISE) ON WRITING

Posted on by
4

IMG_1628It’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.