I realized today that not only do I want to write but that I have to write. Which I suppose doesn't seem so out of the ordinary, but it is out of the ordinary for me. I never expected to be writing anything much, ever, especially as I got older. I did not expect that I had much creative power or energy left. How wonderful that I was wrong about myself. Writing has become the release of all sorts of ideas and emotions that have been locked up inside me for a very long time. Reading has helped me gather information and dissect other people's thoughts and imaginings and as much as I love reading it is not an outlet for my creativity. It is playtime for my imagination, but not creativity.
The sum total of my life experiences to this point are running around inside me, waiting to be let out for a run, tamed, used, drawn from and some of them even exorcised. Not every experience is a great one, some have been extremely painful and challenging. To the point at times, I wondered how we survived the emotional traumas of family life.
Recently a friend reminded me " if it doesn't kill you, it will strengthen you". She is a writer too and a wise and lovely friend. Emotional scars of all kinds can either debilitate us or drive us on to being better, can lead us away from or towards our loved ones. I truly prefer going on, regardless of how difficult things get. But that doesn't negate pain and heartache that need to be gotten through some how.
Looking back on some nasty experiences, I realise that any compassion I have for others and understanding of life, pretty much stems from forgiveness and love. The giving and receiving of both is essential in any one's recovery. Some days I think there can't be much left to draw on for original ideas to write about, then I think what crap, I haven't even touched the tip of the iceberg.
Thinking right now about all the possibilities for writing is overwhelmingly exciting and there definitely are not enough hours in the day. I didn't notice how short the days were until I started to write. Because of this I found myself thinking that I waste a lot of time, fooling around not being seriously engaged in something all the time, but I think there has to be a balance. Then I read a post on another blog about the blogger's motor bike and the freedom he experienced on it and how it made him feel. I want a similar freedom within the limits of my life. I don't have a motor bike, but I do have other possibilities and a freer spirit than I had this time last week, or even an hour ago.........