The real and ethereal
merge into one thought
when winter acquiesces
to the warmth of spring
and sunlight slowly melts
into dark shadows. ~ms
I have not written anything since December (I sincerely hope that I was missed). The winter was extremely harsh, in more ways than one. In January, I spent a few days in a hospital bed after surgery. All of the pain medication that I was given left me with the impression that everything was unreal. So I was there and not there; hurting and not hurting at the same time.
When I returned home, I had to spend a week in bed. I found it difficult to get up and down, or even retrieve something that had dropped to the floor. I certainly was not used to feeling so helpless! My sympathetic cats kindly decided to spend most of their time in bed next to me, pretending that they also felt the pain. Their empathetic poses did make smile.
Unfortunately, it seems that my desire to write decided to spend most of this abnormally cold winter curled up under warm blankets too, just like my cats.
Now it is April and suddenly the warmth of spring is turning gray into green. Flowers are popping up everywhere. Aha! I have fully recovered. Creativity lives!
This morning, while rummaging through some boxes, I found another paper that I had written in an English class back in 1993, reminding me that I definitely need to rise up and take pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) once again.
Reading through my writing, I search for the feeling within the words. I listen carefully for the voice. Sometimes entire sentences jump out at me, rebelliously, demanding to be discarded. Frustration! But then, suddenly, unexpected coalitions arise between disconnected words, creating new meanings. Revelations! When words come to life and begin to rewrite my thinking, I get excited.
Writing is addictive. Even when I am frustrated, I have difficulty walking away from it. Once I begin creating and reshaping, I have a hard time stopping. I am never satisfied with anything I have written, until I have mercilessly edited, reread, rewritten and edited some more. And then, just when I think I am finished, I see something else that could have been better if, and maybe I should….
.As long as there are thought to think, and dreams to dream, a true writer will never have the last word!