A friend asked me not long ago, if I ever took time to write. I told him I just don’t have time, can’t make time to get back to me. Not sure if there are any of my own words left in the Guff.
It occurred to me that he knew what I didn’t fully embrace, that my lifeline, my words, would never be lost to me, but I did have to make the effort to wend my way back to the reservoir. And that it was something I needed to do.
Last week, at the start of my salvation, I sat on Sunday evening and wrote a poem for myself. Strangely, it popped out of my hand from things my soul had taken in. I remembered how I can go from here at any time and am good with that. Always was, since I can remember. But, today, there are little people that make me happy to be here, to see them grow. Events I would like to see unfold in the world. Changes I would like to see come about in my community. And so came the poem.
And then came another. And another. And in the space of a few hours, I had written poems through Saturday, May 10, 2014. I say through Saturday because, instead of posting them all at once, I scheduled them all, one daily at 06:30. When I had to work to get the last one done, I realized I had written to my heart’s content, and it was good.
I chose that publishing time, because it would give me enough room to give a final check before I have to leave for work — if I were so inclined.
I was not. I wrote each poem, revised and edited as it asked, scheduled it, and moved on until I felt content. In keeping with the original intent of this blog, I let them stand as they were. Each poem came in its own time, and reached an acceptable level that made me comfortable with putting it out there. Not perfect, but that doesn’t exist so it’s okay.
This, My Play Area
This is where I encourage ideas to flow freely and try to capture them. The decent ones I share. Those not quite ‘there’ I delete, and reproduce elsewhere to be worked on, if I think they merit it.
What you see here is the fruit of the joy and freedom of what I find most compelling and saving about writing. It is the place where I can only reach my success by freeing and then embracing, that which is ultimately, uniquely, profoundly, humbly me. This site was not fun for a while because of all the life stuff I let get in the way. Even play takes work. But, I realize anew that this fun is another way to play through my trials and triumphs.
I forgot how much I thrive because of this, and I do believe I’m home again.
It’s important for me to make time to play. And I suspect it must be the case for others too. Do you have writing as a lifeline and want to share? Leave me a comment if you’re so inclined. Or, write about it and invite me to your blog.