I thought I broke something the other day. Something I’ve been trying to be really, really careful with. Something that is important to me. And holds much emotional value.
In fact, it’s something that plays an integral part in me not only functioning, but also in my happiness. And health. So you can understand why I’d want to make sure it’s well looked after.
But accidents do happen. Even when we’re being mindful and as it were, it slipped from my grasp. Have you ever wished you could go back in time? Years? Maybe just a few seconds? To alter an action? Change the outcome?
I have to admit my heart plunged along with it as it toppled to the floor. And as I watched it go down, all the things it’s come to mean to me over time swirled ‘round inside my head. And while I immediately wished the mishap hadn’t happened, it ended up being a good opportunity. For insight. And growth.
I hurried to pick it up. Save it. Examine it closely. Look for chips. Cracks. And to hug it close to my chest. Amazingly, it seemed to be intact. Although changed. And I got to see it in a different way.
I do know the cracks could be hiding. Deep inside. Unseeable. Lying in wait to open towards the sky.
And disconnect everything.
So, I’ll be even more careful from now on. Treat it even more delicately. Respectfully. With kindness. And a soft hand.
Because when something means the difference between being happy and barely breathing, you know it’s a big deal. And if you’re able to trust that its cracks are simply openings for new light to enter, then every little thing will be all right.
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing | Tagged Change, Growth, Love, Self Love | 4 Comments »
Do you ever feel like writing – like, really blowing something out of the water – but your mind is so muddled. So clouded.
That you can’t.
For the life of you.
Figure out what it is you wanna say. Or what it is that’s worth saying.
Well, hang on to your hats. Because that’s me this time ‘round.
I know I’m almost always obscure. Abstract. But in general, I mostly have an idea when I start a post, of how I want it to read. What point I want to smear across that foreboding blank page. What it is I want to say. What it is that’s worth saying.
But not today.
No, today, I come to you with open arms and a murky mind. And I ask you – What do you think I should say? What do you wanna hear? And what would make it all worthwhile?
Hard questions, I know. And more than likely, impossible to answer.
So, stuck here, am I. With a desire. A desire that cannot be fulfilled. Because I am failing to pinpoint the words, the meaning, or the value that I need to convey my purpose.
Sometimes, I think it would be nice to simply curl up on a grassy knoll. Under a rainbow, or maybe the stars. And let it all come to me. Because it seems the more I try to chase it, the further away it gets.
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing | Tagged Depression, Rainbows, Writing | 3 Comments »
Hope floats, right?
Or is it that we float on hope? Do we need to search for it? Call it? Or does it just know where we are? Does hope simply show up at the door…ring the bell? Grab our hands and take us for a spin?
I don’t think hope is as lighthearted as that.
I do think it finds us. Yes. But it finds us because it’s looking very hard. Looking for the ones who will take it seriously. That won’t waste what it has to offer. That will use its power for good. Hop on its back and have faith that they’ll be in the right place when next their feet touch the soil.
I think hope is still.
And heavy. A good heavy. An anchor. And that once we manage to grab hold, it weights us. Makes us stable. Gives refuge to wait out the storm. And lets its optimism shower down from a star-studded sky.
I think hope is like an Orchid.
It’s looking for the people who are willing to turn the crap life has handed them into mulch. Cultivate its roots. And still…still have hope that hope will believe in them. People who trust that if it’s well looked after. Nurtured. Respected. And truly happy.
That they’ll be blessed with living alongside its bloom more often than once a year.
Posted in Blogging, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Short Stories, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing | Tagged Hope, Love, Orchids | 4 Comments »
It’s raining tonight.
And I don’t mind.
In fact, normally, I find beautiful things in the rain. The way the shrubs and trees and grass burst with luscious life. They way they pop with extra vibrancy against their bleak grey backdrop.
The fresh smell of things revived.
The moist in the air that feels like it’s good for my skin. The jewelish patterns it leaves on the windowpanes. The sound of it panging the roof.
And hey, I’m always wanting a valid reason for a roaring fire.
But tonight, I feel sad listening to the pitter of raindrops smacking on the outside shell of my world. For whatever reason, this night is not one of those nights that I’m willing to search for brightness amongst the streaky, cellophaned streets or the drippy ink sky.
No. Tonight, I just want to be sad.
And that’s alright. Because sadness is poetic. We are lucky to live the sad moments. And rarely do we stay sad forever, right?
Sad is not the enemy.
Because being completely sad is, after all, the very thing that allows us to know when we are completely happy.
And we know this, because our hearts tell us. And so does the wise Louis CK…
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing | Tagged #LouisCK, #Romance, Rain, Sadness | 1 Comment »
I was told the other day, that this blog. My blog. Helps people. That it’s inspirational. And that it stirs people to do the things they want to do. To change their paths. To go and be whatever it is they might want to be.
And I have to say I’ve never really thought of this blog. My blog. That way.
So, I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out what it is that that person saw as inspiring. What about my waterfall of thoughts would engage people in a positive way? What would motivate change in them? Make them think they could follow their dreams?
After all, it’s just me. Perched on my chair. Hitting the keys and letting it all fall out. And not all of it is pleasant. Or happy. Or spirit-lifting. So it can be difficult to see the light through the dark sometimes and it’s nice when someone else cares enough to flip the switch on for me.
At times I’m aware of an audience and other times, the likes or comments come as a jarring reminder that I am, in fact, allowing other people into my chaotic, disheveled mind.
Even more surprising for me, was that this comment came on the heels of my last post which was one of my darkest to date. A post that caused me pause. It was one of those times I did remember my audience and hovered over that pulsing publish button a while before pressing it.
I thought it might be too much. Too overwhelming. I worried it wasn’t “Hazy” enough. That I’d gone outside my brand. (No sniggering over the fact that it’s impossible to go outside a brand that only promises mere moments of clarity!)
So I read it back. And then I read several other posts. Just to compare. And then a few more. And I started to see something. The Darkest Side is not all that different from my standard scribblings. I mean, yes, it’s maybe a little sadder. Gloomier.
But, it’s real.
And that, I believe, is what’s inspiring.
Without sugarcoating, I always talk myself into believing there’s a little bright side to everything. And whether I need to gauge my readers or forget they’re there in order to write whatever it is I want to get out, I stay real.
And we’ll keep this part our little secret. That this blog is also about me doing what I want to do. Changing my path. Being whatever it is I long for…think about…and am becoming.
And, I dunno. Maybe people like that too.
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing | Tagged Depression, Love, Understanding | 6 Comments »
My darkness is a blanket, but I find it hard to pull around you. It seems it would be easy enough. I could just clutch the two corners and wrap them ‘round your shoulders until they tie together.
Knotted, in the middle of your chest.
And there they’d hang, the blanket’s twisted ends, weighty over your heart.
I could pull it over your head. Cover your eyes with it. Stop you from seeing me.
From seeing anything.
Because it’s not one of those thin blankets. The kind that grant grainy particles of light. No peeking through to the other side.
Not with this one.
Once you’re in it, it’s thick. And heavy.
You won’t see hazy silhouettes through it. No subtle motion. Once you’re under it, it’s black. Bleak.
No light. No movement. No hope.
You’ll ask me to. Even tell me you want the darkness. You’ll beg to be wrapped in it, if you think it will help me. You’ll promise to be okay behind its all-encompassing eclipse.
You’d lie if you thought it would ease my burden.
I know better. I know what it will do to you. To your spirit. To your sensitive soul.
But in the end, I’ll share my blanket with you anyway.
Because I’m human. And I need you.
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Fiction, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing | Tagged Depression, Love, Teens | 2 Comments »
I wrote a post the other day. Yay, me! About a bird. Well, it seems it was about a bird, but to be honest, I rarely write in a literal sense. I’m just usually the last to know.
And people liked it. Oddly, I did too. And that’s a real rarity for me. Because sadly, though not surprisingly, I am plagued with the writer’s plight. One’s own work is never good. And even worse, it’s never enough. In fact, why am I even showing it to anyone, silly monkey! So, to feel like it passed muster is a true blessing indeed.
But…I need the formula. What was so likeable? Why did you like it? And the harder question – why did I?
It’s laced with attractive language. And a lightness that brings a certain prettiness to the page. It’s short. And sweet. Grammatically correct. And even though it might be what some would perhaps call, wandering, it still manages to be direct and to the point. When you believe I’m actually talking about a bird, that is.
And all those things are good. But I don’t think they’re the reasons we liked it, do you? If I had to guess, (which obviously I do because, for some reason, very few people ever actually comment on my posts) I’d say it’s because it’s mysterious. And moving. And metaphorical. Have I gone too far in patting myself on the back? Another thing about writers…most of us are delusional.
Mystery. Movement. Metaphors.
We usually like those three things the best, don’t we?
Posted in Blogging, Creative Writing, Inspiration, Life, Non-Fiction, Short Stories, Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writers, Writing | Tagged #amwriting #blogging #muse | 4 Comments »