This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Everything I Ever Done, Gonna Give It Away

I had a brief fantasy about reading my stories in public yesterday as a song on KEXP inspired me.  I realized that my stories deserved to be shared.  They exist, they are built with love, and they shouldn't sit dusty and dark, unheard.  I should prepare some more of them, get them on portable paper and take them to the cities nearby.  I should read them, for free.  I have been thinking about me: what and how I seek interests out.  There is no denying I am a writer first and foremost.  Music, visual art, expressive motion, even song lyrics are all beyond the realm of my immediate draw.  These genres inspire my writing.  In turn my writing reflects what they say.  I am friend to a great many musicians, photographers, painters, sculptors, collage-makers and so on; our exchange is always wrought best wherein they show me their work and I reflect my feelings from it back to them.  They hear their work in my words and we're both happy to have expressed ourselves in each other.  Here's something that's  more practice than anything, and is probably not like what I would take on the road.


After several days in a row in which I am a tearful lump in the morning I realized I needed my morning pages again.  Now - to get the right light...
Sitting on a [yoga] block now, by the fire I built in a jiffy.  Took me an hour to get out here, but I hope I'll get faster and more enthusiastic quickly.  The writing desk may be repositioned so I'm not writing under my own shadow.  Three pages.  Start there.  Don't know what's next after that becomes easy.  Not to concern myself with that for now.
Fire distraction.
There are many, but instead of really distracting me they will be written down.  My fire is teasing - off and on again.  A spider one foot in front of me draws my eye.  I hope it doesn't cause me to jump when it moves again.  I may have to move it. 
Fire again.
I have a fire now in the heart of a good stack of wood and I think it's gaining momentum.  Think it's hungry.
I chose a purple ink to write with because I am intimidated by the back-log of words in me and I thought my favorite color might encourage. 
An interesting fire flare...

I don't know if I will start the fire again if it dies.  I am becoming frustrated with the fickleness of my own fire.

Woe. Oh woe.
Now I am laying on my tummy and the fire whispers of its potential.  I feel either insulted or annoyed at my ironic interpretation of this fire's inadequacies.

I am struggling with a recurring grief over our decision not to go to Burning Man.  Selling the $280.00 tickets. Using the money for home repair and improvement and baby gear.  I wonder (often in this saddened way) if we are making a mistake by not going.  I know that my feeling on it is all up to me.

Ah - now that I am laying my eyelids droop.  I am practicing this early rising.

In my heart of hearts I know what I need to do.  I need to regain my "warrior" focus.  Need to hunt a job until I land one.  Need to work harder.  Perhaps I have grown soft out here, when I intended thought I would grow strong. 

I fear.  Maybe my fear has been eating me up.  I fear my spirit light going dim--I fear it will resemble this non-fire here.  Dr. Estes's work reminds me to take strength from the knowledge that a fire can be brought out at any time with the right kind of attention.  My inner child must live with a lot of fear still, fear that she will be mothered out of me.

I do not associate "mother" with "friend" in my core feelings.  I associate "mother" with "boss", "manager", someone who tells you what to do and does not encourage your creative ideas and input.  It is "father" who I associate with being heard, seen, cared for enough to be listened to and honestly considered.

And so.  My inner child (me--not necessarily Niblet) fear the oppression of "mother", but also the possibility of turning into her. 

Burning Man? Burning Man is a free pass to glorious excuse.  Absence.  Freedom from fear- at least I assume it to be so.  I still wish it had been me last year - when instead it was L.

I want to know how to stop carrying pain, hurt, anger.  I know they aren't needed, aren't protecting me.  How do I let them go for good?

No comments: