This was one of those days that my main goal was simply to endure. All manner of confusion and disorientation have been visiting, which if unchecked, leads to early insanity.
I forgot something, and that is disheartening.
Time slowed to a pace that frightens. I walked out back in my slippers, feeling the warmth but pondering an apple tree with sparse blooms. Yesterday I spied a hummingbird there.
Today I wondered if the tree is well.
I walked so quietly that a cat sleeping at the back of the yard stayed put and blinked at me sleepily. Usually this cat races away as I approach.
Out of respect, I turned and contemplated the plants. So many flowers!
I tried to take a photo of the garden with my iPhone but shot a movie instead. Worthless. Deleted.
There is no more lonely feeling for a writer than when he shares his ideas about writing with someone he thought he could trust only to treated with silence.
Silence, as I have often noted, is the cruelest of all responses. For anyone yearning to connect with others, out of any emotional need whatsoever, talking is the answer.
Talking allows people to correct misconceptions and reconnect emotionally.
Silence deepens the gulf between people and allows everyone involved to just float away into space, disconnected particles of dust.
I fear, often these days, that we are all using new technologies to communicate in less intimate ways.
That is a subject for an entirely different type of post on one of the other platforms where I write.
But here, for now, all I have to say was that this was a very bad day. A very lonely day and a very quiet day. The kind of day that reminds me that in the end all we have is ourselves.
-30-
2 comments:
This is a half empty/half full situation. While it is absolutely true that, in the end, all we have is ourselves, that's exactly what we do have -- ourself. We have ourself to count on. We have ourself to feel and make decisions. We have ourself to find a new way. We have ourself to listen and hear. We have ourself to put out to others. And we have ourself to figure out what we need to know whenever there is something that needs knowing. That's a lot. A lot to count on. For me, it has always been a great source of comfort. I do understand that you tend to lean towards the more lonely side of "ourself" as in just me, just one of us, just myself. However, with myself well grounded, with myself looking about as you did with the blooms and hummingbird, and then capturing a movie (even though you deleted it), you do get to move forward, move on, move at all, walk around looking, and identify that which you see. That's worth a lot. Start simple. Start at the beginning. Everyday if you have to for awhile until you find an equally simple platform that stays the same from day to day and becomes that upon which you can slowly, very slowly, add and build and develop and become something more.
Good advice. I teeter to one side, then the other. To being lonely even when surrounded by love, to being satisfied even though alone. There isn't a constant in this except for the writing -- the need for self-expression.
But your words help, offer comfort, and suggest ways to improve -- as a writer and a person.
We are all a work in progress...
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