Sunday, August 31, 2008

Writing:
I started this online writing class to encourage me to write-- litterally the fire under my butt is working and I'm doing short writes each and every day. It's amazing what a little discipline and accountability will do for a person.

We have only 10-12 minutes to write based on a prompt (phrase or picture) about what comes to mind. It's stream of consciousness and free-flowing but helps each of us find our voice and build our confidence. Here are a few I've done (starting from beginning and working up to more recently).

A Sound Outside Your Window
It’s a calming rain pouring down from the rooftops in the sky. It’s a romantic cleansing that washes the soul from any impurities and bad karma left behind in the past—piled up like leaves in a gutter drain.

It’s a rapping, a tapping, and a knocking of a ghost reflection unseen from the inside. It’s my deceased grandmother haunting me. “What?” She screams. “It’s at your graduation that I lost my hearing, you know!” her voice trails on—mumbling something about how it’s a shame to grow so old and lose control of everything.

It’s a loud city street noise that screams inside my mind like a megaphone toting auctioneer, a horse race announcer at the finish line or the sounds of blaring Hispanic radio. It’s a nuisance that forces the outside in. It prevents me from being my insular, introverted self. It invades like noise pollution and chokes my thoughts.

It’s the approach of a car—tire treads hitting the rocky pavement of a greatly welcomed guest. It’s a friend unseen since the war. It was an awful war that was always rapping at your ear drums and clouding your airspace with smoke and poison. A friend soon to walk into the door and bring a myriad of memories thought to be forgotten—a rush of exposed secrets and raw pain. A friend I need despite the sorrow it will bring me once he steps at my doorstep and raps at my door.

Describe the Obstacle
Calming the symbol chiming monkey
Turning off the spinning carousel
Turning down the musical music box
Turning off the television set
Refreshing the connection

To rest along side the raccoons curled
Lie comfortably blessed under the stars
To sit still and be the tall trees
To hear insects crawling
To see the crickets rubbing their feet
To smell the mildew and shower soap
To breath in the sunset and approach of night
To caress my body’s cells and organs
To feel inspired by my imagination
To be confident in my capabilities
To be complete inside my mind’s activity

A Pleasant Surprise
I’ve dreamt for it; I’ve wished for it and I’ve prayed about it for over 20 years. Yet I have never heard you say three little words. Finally, today, when I wasn’t looking or expecting it I heard it. You said the simplest of words that mean more to me than anything else you could utter from your lips or any gift you could buy. With all the meaning and impact you could garner, you said “I am sorry”.

Wow! What a monumental relief it was to hear those words and it’s amazing the impact they have on me. My soul quivers with gratitude at the gift given. Steam releases from pressurized chambers inside. I feel cleansed from the hardened build up of years of acidic words and prickly ego-centric, selfishness that I’ve had to swallow.

My heart softened today and double-bounced as if on a trampoline chasing after gravity. You fulfilled on the wish of a shooting star I made years ago. As you told me my mind clouded with reflective sunsets and I lost all concentration. It was a beautiful evening and all other stresses were bagged as I played back your heart-felt words-- over and over and over again. You considered me and I thank you.

Thursday Photo: Woman
Her veil dances in the wind like billowing, lyrical smoke from a peace pipe. The fabric drapes around her blessing the sacred space she steps over. The thoughts in her mind not as sacred and pure as her dreamy virgin white wedding gown. Nerves bite at her stomach and nip at her neck while sweat drips uncontrollably from the inside of her thighs. Is this the right time? Is this the right man? Am I ready for this kind of commitment? Thoughts of her parent’s divisive divorce streak through her mind like nails on a chalkboard.

Her parents approach at each side. There’s no time she tells herself meanwhile trying to rationalize this monumental decision. Here we go ready or not. What will become of me? Will I lose my individuality and myself when we become one?

Can I say goodbye to my childhood fears of together forever? Can I still create my own path or will I have to circle backwards at the dead end of married life?

Many thoughts race through her mind like acts of clinging desperation before a free fall. Fears cloud her vision as she tries to sprint in long strides to the front and be at his side. She knows once she is with him the conversation with her fears closes and a new chapter begins. Already she has witnessed what it means to be a ‘we’ and to collaborate and give and take equally. This is not your parent’s relationship she reminds herself. Her back is to them and her attention and hands in his.