Pandora’s Box

pandora

Apologies not forthcoming, I opened Pandora’s Box. Inside was this stack of paper.

It was started as a little journal entry when my mind was troubled. I wrote until words stopped flowing, then I boxed it up as a rough draft and put it away.

I opened Pandora’s Box this morning because my mind is troubled once again. The only difference is I am older, maybe a little wiser, and certainly colder. Words that stung years ago cannot make me flinch.

What bothers me is knowing the impact those words have on our parents. It sickens me to the point where I have not slept. I forgot to eat yesterday. Upsetting our parents is what upsets me.

So, who am I protecting by not finishing this book?

 

Peace Piece

It has occurred to me that if I only post when I am irritated or in one of “those” moods, the overall perception has a negative vibe. As if I am irritated or in a foul mood all the time. Look at the dates. Time passes… life goes on quite peacefully content in between.

Yes, I use words to purge my mind.
I use words to gather my thoughts.

I think out loud on paper, sometimes virtual paper, writing my way around the back forty of my mind. I sift and sort in a search for understanding. Sometimes, I need to evaluate, form an opinion, or draw a conclusion. And then again, sometimes, I am just lost on the other side.

On the flip side: if I only posted upbeat happy-happy joy-joy flowery fluff, I would question my sanity and wonder if I lost my own tentative grasp on reality.

I shall try to strike a chord, mix it up for balance.

Well, I best get ready… the clock is ticking and I am going to “Play in May for the YWCA!” at the Senior Center on Fifth Avenue where I will laugh and have a great time making art with friends.

And that is what this blog hasn’t shown for awhile… I laugh out loud and often, savor peace and harmony. I see life as more comedy than drama, and not like modern sit-coms or so darn goofy that it should only appeal to nine year old boys. I like old comedy and humor spun by a play on words.

Screened Words

I wrote my way through a tangle of thoughts, both on real and virtual paper.  I wrote new blog posts, but clicked on the trash can symbol to delete my words while they were still in draft status here in my cell phone app.  I scribbled words on the back of junk mail envelopes, scrap paper, and index cards, pages torn out of journals and spiral notebooks.  I wrote until the words sighed in the wee hours of the night, and wrote until I ran out of ink and had to search the house down to find another pen.  Three pens hit the trash, exhausted and unable to write more.

Then I began to write again, sifting and sorting my thoughts out in poem form as if understanding will occur if it rhymes.

Have you ever snapped a photo through a window screen? 

image

Funny how eyes focus on the little song birds who love the sunflowers, while the cell phone camera is focused on the window screen.

That is how my thoughts were… I could see the understanding I needed obsured by a screen so I had to write my way through it. 

I found peace and clarity in writing the poem.  Although it is done, it needs to rest a bit before sharing as it has flaws… is “tornatic” a word?  I think not… and it has a couple mixed tenses that would make an English professor groan, but I might let it slide. 

Besides, it is an awfully long poem, perhaps too long to post on a blog, as typed up single spaced runs four pages long.  I printed it out on two sheets set for two columns and snail mailed it to a trusted friend and fellow blogger (although he hasn’t blogged lately due to a broken machine, his laptop crashed when it hit the floor) and then I found myself avoiding the main topic when he texted, able to discuss the flashback part of the poem, but not the current situation for which the flashback yielded the clarity.

I’m just not ready to share.  Does that make sense? 

Maybe I need to take it to poetry night at Meta, read it out loud first.

The thing is… writing is so vital to the process of recovery.  Writing is a means of gaining clarity and understanding when peace of mind is so desperately needed.  Keep writing.