thoughtsgather

the river flows

amongst the  scattered rocks and stones

edges jutting above the flowsoftening

beneath the flurry

of water flow

This is my 10 minute write.  It’s 12:15 pm on a Wednesday and I have promised myself that I would write for 10 minutes a day. Just to begin. I will write more. Eventually. But for now. 10 minutes. The question is whether I will post this without edit and without thought. For me, that is a risk. I am a self-editor. Cautious with my words. Cautious with my life. So perhaps this will be my experiment. To write without edits. Hmmmm.  Grammar and typos, will I keep them? Maybe perhaps for now. They will help me to overcome my need to edit. I have already resisted the urge to go back and make changes. Writing in this way makes me vulnerable. But perhaps vulnerability is what is really needed. What I really need. Just to put it out there, all unedited. What a concept, to live an unedited life. And I don’t mean that I want to say everything i always feel, because sometimes you do have to be cautious around how you say things and who you say them too.  Its a fine line. A balance. To live unedited, with no backspaces or erasers. To just put it all out there with apology.

I take deep breaths as I write these words. Because we are constantly putting images out there, aren’t we? Impressions of ourselves. Sometimes it gets hard to know what is the unedited version. What is the authentic, walk onto the page, walk into the scene, with no doubt and no worry of making mistakes. Because really, what is a mistake. A mistake is something that needs fixing or changing or apology. But if one is living a life in line with their own values and beliefs and if concern for not only oneself but also for the other is central to one’s values, then how can there be mistakes. Mistakes are things to learn from and to evolve from and therefore, its not a mistake, but part of the journey.

Yes, maybe these unedited words will be the beginning of an unedited life.

It was my birthday two days ago. Number 39. Not a major milestone, this is true. But there was something about the day and the days leading up to my birthday that felt like a shift was in process.  And perhaps a shift is always in process. But there was something more profound about this one. If I am honest with myself, I feel like i’ve been waiting for 39 years for something. just waiting for the next thing. Waiting to be happy. Waiting to feel good. Waiting to become motivated. Waiting for inspiration. Waiting. For Something. That something alluded me. It still alludes me but the reason for that is now much more clear. There is nothing to be waiting for. This. Is. It. Life. This one glorious life. I can’t wait to live anymore. There are things to do, stories to write, art to create, wonders to be discovered, tea to be sipped. Life. Mine. It is mine to live. This is My. Life.

A life on this land ceases to exist

And this soul swims in the sea of the eternal

The unknown departed provided me with a gift

This must be a true fact, for I have no other explanation from where these words come

One day, I knew not what poetry was.

The next day words flowed endlessly from a vast unknown.

I think not of their structure or sense

From some divine place they arrive, and they beckon action and they require love

And this gift has not been given to me freely, as I have no right or possibility to decline

The responsibility large

I will hold this gift in delicate yet fierce repose

I will welcome the words and images as if they were another’s. I will watch over them with care

I know not whom to thank

And so I simply look upwards with acknowledgment and respect