Feeling so weary sitting on this couch. I’m exhausted. It’s not a physical exhaustion, although the physical demands play a part. My soul seeks rest. The places that I used to find it hold no comfort these days and I feel as though I am floating from moment to moment, waiting for when I can close my eyes. The anxiety makes all the sounds too loud and distorted, the lights too harsh and bright. I find myself longing for the quiet and solitude of my bedroom, although even then I rarely find some peace. The noise inside my head is the loudest, it will not quiet even for a moment. The thoughts roll around and around, becoming louder and louder and I turn to the words I love so much, the words that quiet my soul. I thank you then for creating for me a safe haven, even when the words aren’t so beautiful, even when the truth is dark and painful and rips open old wounds. I thank you. Your words remind me that there is another way to see this world, another way to see the beauty, another way to find release and this is all I’ve ever wanted.
The beautiful fish swirl and twirl ’round and ’round in their little man-made pond. Their gold, orange and black patterns are hypnotic and I gently slide my fingers through the water. They dance and dip and shoot fast as lightning through the gently rippling waves they make as they chase each other back and forth. As I watch them, my heart aches to experience the freedom they must feel in the water, even inside a private ocean with barriers. A group of lily pads float serenely on the surface, swaying gently as the Koi dart to and fro. The sun catches the small waves the fish make and send a kaleidoscope of colors shooting to the depths. How wonderful it must be to glide and dip and dive- such freedom even in captivity.
Standing underneath a billion tiny stars, wondering what will happen next, it takes my breath away. Wishing I had someone to share this moment with, someone who could appreciate the wonder of it all as much as I do. Not that I am alone but sometimes even when you’re not, you are. Always waiting for a shooting star, making a wish on the brightest one and pretending I don’t see the rest because your wish only comes true when it’s the first star of the night, right? These beautiful lights that cover every inch of the darkened sky remind me how insignificant it all is and I am humbled.
Bukowski offered up the best advice about writing, the want and such. Most haven’t the time to read a full on paragraph about writing, so I’ll get to his main point: Don’t try. I have a lot of writer friends who bemoan “i’ve got writers block,”. To that I say, “hush”. There is no such […]