"Hollo blog, how are ya?"
"Long time no write!"
"Yeah, that happens sometimes."
"...it's been a while as you know so bare with me..."
"Oh? So don't expect much?"
"Oh do shut up and let me get on with this!"
Funny the things that make you write. Most times for me it is sparked by others writings; others shared experience. Today it was while I was reading a friends blog about her public life, public divorce, and guess what: lack of writing!
Funny when the Muse can strike you too. Today it was while defrosting a frozen pizza case! ...not exactly conducive to writing when you're on your knees inside a freezer, hands covered with gloves, spraying water over an ice encrusted coil with a door slamming in your ribs. Then you look up and see a price sticker for "Simply Inspired Pizza" and all you know is: "I have to get outa here and write something!" Anything, something, cause you know you've needed to write, ever since you read your friends blog this morning!
The thing that stuck with me (well, the things that stuck with me) and somehow sparked the muse (and this is why I'm still in the parking lot at work writing this on my iPhone) was how honestly she shared about the difficulties with "Divorce" and how well she's dealing with it. I'm sure it doesn't seem to her that she's dealing with it all that well; but having gone through something myself that was much more acrimonious; I feel I can see this as an outside observer. Personal experience it always more vivid so I deduce based solely from the point of view that she seems to me to be a lot stronger than I was at that stage by her writings. Everyone's experiences are valid to the individual as they say, and well, I'm impressed. There is a strength there that I suppose I had; because after all I transcended it somehow... but "Damn!" I don't remember being that composed!
Poetry and Faith or a combination of the two, coupled with the overwhelming desire to protect my kids were the stuff that kept me going. As much as I tried civility was a tuff go for a long time being the only practitioner of it (or so it seemed) in the relationship. Ugh!
I don't like to write about the bad stuff in my life so maybe that's why I haven't been here in a while. Who wants to hear me whine about this old people's disease. Do you really want to hear about my bile duct? No. That's because it has to do with: "bile" for God's sake!
What REALLY made me want to write today though was her mention of somehow being stranded.
Friends of mine always long for the sea. They feel somehow washed up here. I think I remember having wanderlust in my youth; but never a longing for the sea. I'd been there often, got sunburned almost every time, and wasn't with the right person or something. Strange thing is I married an "Island Girl" from the BWI. She always felt the call of the sea too. Perhaps that dampened my enthusiasm. ...who knows... ?
I'm a freshwater Piscean if you will. I come alive in the creek beds. Walking along the banks, dipping my toes in the ripples, soothed by the sounds of a different surf. So I've never felt landlocked as long as there was a river or stream nearby.
My water runs down to the sea it doesn't come in from it. I always feel I am the beginning; that goes outward from place. I'm content (mostly) where I am watching as it moves to it's destination. It seems somehow constant to me. Comforting. Unlike the arrival of a wave from some far and distant shore. Coming as it were from the unknown and bringing with it the unknown. I know where the creek water starts. I know it as it passes over stones that I see everyday. Let it pass me by. Let it go out from here and find its way...
Like words, that flow when the muse strikes. In the car while reading or from a hose over coil. Freshwater Piscean; I like the sound of that.