This has been a very unsettled day for me in my mind. I have what I would just call a “busy” mind, because it never stops, and therefore causes relaxation to become something of a historical past. I find it hard to even settle myself to sit here and write this, but being out in the aviary helps, and I know that I need to even if I don’t necessarily feel like it or want to. Whenever I stop writing, then things are really not good. It’s a practise I can’t afford to let slip, no matter what else is going on. Writing has given me so much over the years. It has been a place to turn to when there seemed like no one or nowhere else to go. It has been a safe place for me, and it is only whenever I share it with others that it is open for judgement, and that is on me if I choose to do so, and I only ever do if I think it might be even remotely helpful to another, be it to encourage, give a laugh, or shine a light in someone’s darkness. I know how much the honest and open sharing of others has touched and helped me, and it encourages me to “put myself out there” regardless of any recrimination. What I really love though is the connectedness that it offers, and the way that it allows for us to be a part of one another’s lives through the written word. Whether it be a letter in the mail (the best) from a good friend or family member, a kind note someone leaves behind for their significant other, the lists we make in a vain attempt at fooling ourselves into believing that we have it all “under control,” to a comment or message on Facebook or some other social media site that connects us all around the world in a way we once thought totally impossible. I understand how and why writing can seem like such a drag whenever you’ve had to write out the “I’ve been naughty and must stop talking in class” sentences hundreds of times, or writing out a long piece on something equally boring for school or work. I still think that overall, writing wins out and is a major positive in our world of negatives. Of course it is something that we take for granted like the many things we do on a daily basis without thinking what it would be like not to be able to, from the simplest task of brushing our teeth, to taking out the trash, or just tying our shoe lace’s. I mean, just imagine a world without books. Wouldn’t it be awful? All our favourite writers would be unable to publish and share their work with us. Movies and music would cease to be made and kept. Education would completely cease, and all history and proof of life and world events would be erased. It kind of gives me something to be grateful for whenever I really think about it, as I can only speak for myself, but I’m pretty sure there are others out there who share in the same sentiment. And so I will keep on writing. It doesn’t matter “what about” anymore. It only matters that I put pen to paper, or my fingers to this keyboard. I would love to complicate it more, but it’s really just as simple as that. Write?
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 17:56:39 +0000
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