Capturing a Moment

Started this on 12/12/12.  Hmmm.  

Reached the point where everything points to writing. 

Ever gotten to a point in your life where nothing makes sense. I’m here.  Nothing is making sense.  I’m angry.  I’m sad.  I’m having one of those days.  I’m wondering (again), what the hell is going on, who’s life is this and how the hell did I get here?  Is this for real?  Is this actually the life I created...’cause nothing seems to be working right now.  Another dead end.

I keep hearing it in my head, that haven’t-I-told-you-this-before-voice.  “Write, just write.”

Nothing else makes sense.  I could just write about my life.  What if all I ever needed to do was to just write about what is happening?  It couldn’t be that simple.

I could treat this like photography.  If it were, I wouldn’t say, “oh, I’ll get that picture later”.  Photography is about capturing a moment in time.  There is no, later.  It’s now or it’s gone.  Either I choose to take the picture or I choose not to.  If I see writing that way then perhaps I can get what’s in me, out.  Here is a moment in time that needs to be captured. 

It’s not about words.  It’s about feelings. It’s about the feelings associated to a particular moment.  That combination make it unique. 

In photography it’s not about the subject, it about the subject at that particular moment that makes it unique - the lighting, the mood, the angles, the composition of that unique moment.  Writing is no different. 

Aaaah, I think this is a special moment.  I think I have discovered something very important in the evolution of my desire to write.

Brenda Ueland, in her book, If You Want to Write, says, everyone is talented, original and has something important to say.  She says, everybody is talented because everybody who is human has something to express.  Try not expressing anything for 24 hours and see what happens, she says.  Apparently we’ll feel like we will burst and we’ll want to write or draw or sing or make something.

Everybody is original, according to Brenda Ueland, if we speak from our true self and not from the self we think we should be.  If we speak or write from that place we cannot help being original but this joyful, imaginative, impassioned energy seems to die out of us at a very young age.  Why? Because we don’t see what we do as great and important.  We let obligation take its place.  We don’t respect it in others.  We don’t keep it alive by using it.  We don’t keep it alive in others by listening to them.

There is nothing else for me to do.  I am here, at that point where, to make sense of it all I must write.  Write what I live.  Write what I suffer.  I will risk, through fear, criticism, self-doubt, that I may be uninteresting!

UnPackaging

We all arrive in packages.  Neatly wrapped.  Protected.  Arriving safely.  Unbruised.

We all end up so differently.  The currents and tides of our lives shape and polish us so differently.  Some are hard where other are soft.  Some are weak where others are strong.

Time beats against us.  People and things and places and experiences brush against us.  Sometimes softly, gently, nurturing.  Sometimes abruptly, aggressively.  Bruising us, breaking us.

How do we heal?  How do we reconnect?  What do our scars look like? What do they say about us?  How have the bruised and broken parts reconnected?  Have we grown around the pain?  Have we hardened to it?

If we are all in packages, when do we let ourselves out?

Unpackaged at childhood, we are raw and open to the world.  We are gingerly taken out of box and carefully placed on a shelf, to be allowed to begin our journey.

For some, the uncovering is less than loving.  Maybe their box was knocked off the shelf. Hurt and hindered, the fear from the fall, the fear from the jolt, they vow never to leave.  Never wanting to remove the packaging.  After all it could only get worse.

What happens if our packaging is aggressively ripped off of us?  No warning.  Invaded.  Battered in the process.  The world is violent.   The world is not safe.  The world is something that cannot be trusted or respected.  "I cannot trust myself."  "I do not like myself."

Unpackaged people are free, wild and wonderful.  Unrestricted, uninhibited, supported by life and here to make a conscious difference to be in this world the way their insides truly are.  Organic.  Freeflowing.  DIFFERENT.  A celebration of the unconventional lovefest that they are fully committed to being a part of.

I Have Questions

Why do I feel so inadequate sometimes? Why do I feel that I am not enough? Why do I feel that what I am doing is not enough? It makes no sense - this feeling of being less than. Where does it come from? It feels old. Like someone I've known before I was fully aware of who I am.

Who are you? and why do you come to visit with me? What do you want? When will you go? I don't particularly like you. My world is uncomfortable when you are around. What do you want from me? Are you trying to scare me? Intimidate me? Keep me separate?

When I am in touch with my wholeness you are no where to be found. When I am feeling joy, you are also nowhere around. When I am focused and peaceful, you are elsewhere. Are you really there or are you there but do not matter to me? Do you live in this house or will you follow me if I move somewhere else?

Do you know my name? Do you know what is important to me? Do you know what I long for? Wish for? Pray for? Do you know how strong I am?

Are you my friend? Are you here to keep me company? Do you love me? Or are you just as scared as I am? Do you get angry like I do? Do you feel lonely too? Are you afraid of losing me? Do you just want to be loved and accepted and acknowledged? Held and told how brilliant you are?

Are you separate? or are you a part of me that I do not see, don't want to accept, love and acknowledge?

Maybe you need attention, just like me.

You are my sadness. Welcome. All of you is welcome. Feel free to stay as long as you like. We will sit and have tea as we look out into the bright, loving world that surrounds us, supports us, embraces us.

We are one ...and there is room for everyone ...including joy!