I find myself in a quandry. Since I have returned from vacation, I’ve had so much to say and nothing to write. True. At least, in part. Over the last many days I have continually opened this blog, began to write and instead opted to delete my musings. I am overwhelmed, I am discontent, I am filled with an internal conflict between my inner and outer self.
As anyone who has ever met me knows I am neither shy, reserved nor modest. However, something about writing simultaneously empowers and invigorates me while also incapacitating and draining me. For the most part, writing comes quite naturally. Although at times as the thoughts flourish in my mind, often readily bouncing off my tongue, the structure of the printed word is given to halt my flow and render me incommunicado. It is the self editing and the concreteness of the task that poses the problem. I write because, I can’t not. I’ve always written. I write because I enjoy the mode of expression when my watchful self conscious lies at bay. I write because, like most artists undoubtedly are- I’m a flow junkie. During the times, when I sit down and allow myself to be seduced and overtaken by the writing powers that be, I am in the zone. Comfortably lost and at peace with the world and myself. I emerge to find words on paper in my own hand. Whew…what a rush. When the stars have been perfectly aligned, I can even continuously return to this place just by picking up the written page. I am happy. I am self content.
I write because I love words and how they connect to each other to create a meaningful whole. Simply put, like dance- writing is the choreography of thought. The words are the dancers and the grammar the movement. Like the dancer, your expression makes you vulnerable. Your presentation is constantly left to subjective evaluation but, your need to perform is innate and unavoidable. Like the dancer, it demands training, commitment, creativity, flexibility, strength and passion. But, also perspective, distance, space, renewal and overcoming personal limitations.
Perhaps, I’m not in a quandry at all – just in the middle of rehearsal.
Lori,
the experientist
