Thursday, February 9, 2012

A Thousand Things

A thousand things I wanted to write today. A thousand things got pushed aside. A bossy idea is ruling my head today. It won't let the others have their say. Oh well, Bossy. Have it your way, but I'm not going to talk about you yet.

The gray and rain is back. I read things about things, you know. I read about the rain inside some people's heads. I read about how it sometimes falls down their cheeks. I read and listen to the tiny rain fingers drum on my greenhouse window. I read things that others write. They pour out their hearts and exercise their rights, they show themselves in tiny ways. I stopped reading when I got to "irregardless" and then I felt bad. But not bad enough to push past that word and soldier on. My eyes have other things to see to.

A thousand things I wanted to write today. A thousand things got kidnapped and stowed away in dank corners and forgotten folds in my brain. Their ransom notes come to me as half-finished posts and sentences that do not satisfy. I'm not sure I want to pay to get them back.

The quiet is back. It seeps around me and fills me up. So much I can't hear the dying stories strangling in my head. So much. I looked around, a halfhearted attempt at collecting the bits and pieces a monkey hurricane has left in its wake. Collecting my thoughts, collecting the socks, the blocks, the little bits of paper, collecting the nerve to do something. The large and quiet of something big, something looming just outside my vision. The quiet of my own space and everything and nothing to do.

A thousand things I wanted to write today. A thousand things skittered and hid. They clambered over the practical things of life and hid behind them, cowering. They sit and they snivel and play with misdirection, shouting a list of things I need to do. "Do not waste your ink on us," they say. "There are forms to fill out. There are checks to write. There are grownup things waiting." I called them cowards, but listened to them anyway.

In spite of it all, the fire is back. It has been smoldering, almost snuffed for years. But for some kindling here, a sudden flare there, it would have been gone. It's back, it's there, it's building and it will not be ignored. In spite of rain and hurricanes, disconnection and deafening quiet, it's there.

A thousand things I will write some day. I wrote one today and that is all I ask. I'll write another tomorrow and a thousand tomorrows after that if they're given to me. I wrote one today. One. Slowly, clumsily, in this stiff-legged baby-walk way, gripping the edges of things for support, I'm walking forward into what I want. One little malformed, flawed, defected offering far surpasses a thousand intentions unfulfilled.

23 comments:

  1. Well you certainly shared some of your kindling with me. I am inspired.
    I love the perfect analogy of the "stiff-legged baby-walk way". I feel like so much of an infant with my writing. The edges I grab on to for support are blogs like yours.

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    1. Oh my, such a nice thing to say. I am truly honored by that.

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  2. I had the day off, chore list in hand, and kept stopping to jot a thought or idea down in my journal. I've had to many ideas slip away because I thought I'd remember them. I never do. Go stiff-legged baby walking! It's the best way to start.

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    1. It's not a problem of not enough ideas... it's too many! Regardless, thank you! I will be charging around with my crash helmet on for quite a while, I believe.

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  3. Amen, amen, amen. It would be totally creepy to mention my impulse to get that last line tattooed upon my person, right?

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    1. That would be so totally not creepy! I could then cross "Write something which is then tattooed upon a non-family member" off of my bucket list.

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  4. So cool. I love the rhythm and the sentiment. A thousand things I will write today - but, sadly pretty much 998 of them will be written only on the notepad that passes for a brain. Barely.

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    1. Thank you. My "notepad" is rather full up right now and everything's fighting to get said.

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  5. You create such wonderful rhythm. I rise and fall on the waves you make with words!

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  6. Wonderful and frustrating all at once, isn't it?
    The desire... the inspiration... the flow... the fire...
    Just write things as they build inside of you...
    You can always pull a Burroughs and cut them all up later & then string or weave them together...

    It's such fun!
    Words are our playthings.
    We have a big old sandbox here, so why not dig in? :)

    xoxo

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    1. Digging and digging. I've got sand everywhere. The Burroughs idea is a good one. It will also serve the dual purpose of bringing my closer to my dream of becoming a curmudgeonly old man!

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  7. I love the kaleidoscope you create with your words.

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    1. Thank you so much. I hit publish and think: "mess". You read and think: "kaleidoscope". I like your version better!

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  8. Your post made me think. There was one thing that won't go way. It's stuck. That's all I'm going to say.

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    1. Yippee! I can't wait to see what you do with it!

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  9. Wonderful! I am confident that one day I will have my dream library. And that on the shelves will be works by TangledLou. That last sentence was perfect and made my heart smile.

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    1. Holy cow, that might be one of the nicest things someone's said to me! Thank you for your confidence in me! That makes my heart smile.

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  10. I'm glad the fire is back. We are all the beneficiaries!

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    1. Thank you so much, Dawn! That means a lot coming from you.

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Thanks for reading and taking the time to say hello!