That’s all. 500 words and yet it is a mountain. Fleshing out the bones of this skeleton hidden in the closet of my mind feels like a vise clamping on my mind. My head hurts but I write. Word by word I write. Will I ever point anyone to this blog or will it simply be for me writing into the air, the spirits of internet its only real audience? I post my angst for all to see. One more of those. But with the writing of angst I also open a place for humour and joy to find their way as well.
I write here so that maybe I can risk opening again to sharing the thoughts within my heart and mind. Perhaps someone will find them worth reading. For now, I write to write until I find my way through the portal that will take me to my soul, my inner self, my artist hiding somewhere I can’t now find.
The deeply personal I will keep in the journal of my computer, left at risk to virus the way memories should be at risk of fading away, falling softly to nothingness as life moves on in its living.
This is a piece of the poem I wrote today, a piece I am willing to send out into the air of the world of web at risk of being seen by others:
where am I? what fills this emptiness
lost in the midst I wander
seeking a path lost in the past
mired, bogged, uneven surface
hidden danger and release
I walk tentative step by step
each footfall held back
as I test the surface
of the life I left unlived
so long that I have lost the way
where was I going
what did I hope to see when
the path reached solid ground
I walk wondering, wandering
not knowing, not known
steps pulled back as ground falls
softly into nothingness so that I start again
another direction, a new turning
not willing to fade into the nothingness
of my lost dreamworld
hidden in the passage of time
My words sound like those of a hermit lost to time and life and yet there are others in my life. I am a teacher, happy with the process of bringing out the creativity of children. I am happy to be in a place where the child in me can dance and sing and laughter can fill the air. This is the place that holds my career, what others do and then come home to rest from. But for me, I live there and here I just am in a waiting for a life that I lost the road toward. I am not sure why, I guess, but they are guesses not answers because I still leave the keys in the hands of others in that road of thought. There is no solution in giving the road to life to others. It is a toll too great to pay because to live on that road is to lose the essential that is self. 500+ so I stop for today.