Coping With the Loss of Your Written Content

DSCN4774

As many people don’t know, I have been (finally!) working on a new blog post to announce my return to the digital world and talking about where I’ve been hiding these past months.  I was having a really rough time getting the words out and had only written about two hundred within the past four days.  However, today was the day that nearly a thousand of them flooded my screen.  Part I of my return post was complete.  At least for a few short moments it was.  You see, I had thought that I had saved my work when I went to go preview it.  It hadn’t saved properly.  I was in denial when I couldn’t scroll below the two hundred words… that’s when the anger hit and I screamed, nearly throwing my laptop before running out of the room in disbelief and horror.  This is not a normal response from me and I know there are a lot of people who would not fully understand how much of an impact this moment had.  However, I know that somewhere, there are people who totally get it.

It is amazing how much of a difference one second can make to your day and your life.  I had just been smiling with pride moments before, excited about how the format would look finally published.  Then I lost my mind and went to stand in the shower for a while before coming back to search for an article about coping with the loss of written work.  There is no such article that I could find.

I thought that an article like that was sure to exist.  How could it not?  Google is supposed to have all of the answers in’t it?  Actually no, it doesn’t and for the first time in my little life, Google let me down.  I felt so alone, staring at the screen, realizing that maybe it was just me, alone with a blinking text cursor rubbing my fate in my face.

I would like to note that I am still going to rewrite my return post as though this one had never been written and hopefully it can be anywhere near as good as the original… but until then, here are some steps for coping with the loss of your written (or other creative) work.

I. Walk Away and Get Some Air.

II. Do Something Else for a Few Minutes (Hopefully something that makes you feel good… like sex or eating).

III. There Is More Where That Came From.

IV. It Doesn’t Have to be Exactly the Same to be Great.

V. Forget About It and Start Over Fresh.

VI. Rome Wasn’t Built In a Day (And I’m sure they had struggles too).

VII. You Are Not Alone.

VIII. Try Working on a Different Piece and Then Go Back to It.

IX. It’s Not Your Fault (Accidents happen. That’s what life and learning are all about).

X. This Too, Shall Pass.

Advertisements

False Presumptions

DSCN3862

It takes more than a night to know somebody.  More than a kiss to know their true colours.  Who they are is but a whisper, clouded in by false pretenses and old habits.  How do you ever really know someone, and when is a good time to turn the other way?

Each one of us has a story, with parts that turn raw and gory.  And we are ashamed.  We should not be afraid of what lurks within our emotions or what makes us feel alive.  What is wrong with a little raw humanity and just doing something because you want to?  It doesn’t have to mean more than the simplest of things but it also doesn’t have to mean that we don’t care.  Who decides whether or not it should be complicated?

We live in a world where we are told that there are always strings attached.  We don’t want to owe anyone anything.

We live in a world where one misstep tells a person that you are just like all the rest.  We are afraid.

We are afraid of the things we want to trust, the things we wish we were brave enough to pull close.  We are laying alone at night, thinking of that person who we think should be the last thing on our minds.  We live in a world where we can’t tell that person anything that we are feeling because it is considered weak and desperate.

When will it be okay to be honest?  When will it be okay to just feel a little?

When You Weren’t Looking

DSCN3887

It seems like there has been a lot of death around me lately.  Usually it’s not something I feel comfortable talking about but it’s been making me feel so much.  I’ve decided that maybe the best way to deal with these feelings is to write.

You hear about people dying in genocides, terrorist attacks, wars of religion etc. and it has become such a common occurrence that that now it no longer phases us.  Not one of us remembers the faces of the dead who bare no names.  Not one of us remembers the names of the of the dead who bare no connection to our world.  We go on like nothing is happening.  We live in a paradise, with our backs to the shadows.

Sometimes death will hit very close to home.  It’s harder to ignore.  Yet I’ve noticed that somehow we are all still withdrawn, even once death has now made itself very real.  Even once death has touched us.  Is it all the death on the news, in the movies, and in our games?  Or is it normal?  Is it normal that no one seems to ache for the loss of precious lives?  Or is it weird to feel such anguish, when you have no connection to the deceased?

I am sure people do feel something when strangers pass but they have just become so skilled at isolating themselves from it.

I know I am not alone in feeling such pain for the dead.  I know I am not alone in feeling such pain for their families.  I know I am not alone in wishing I could fix what was broken… but I feel so empty.  What is the point?  Why are the least deserving taken the earliest?  Who decides their fate?  I am sure that is not the choice they would have made.

Life is so fleeting, so beautiful, and so full of pain.  It is a light in the darkness that you weren’t sure you saw.  It is that taste in your mouth that you can’t seem to place.  Life is time that passed when you weren’t looking and now you can’t remember where you’ve come from.  And in the end, it doesn’t really matter, because it’ll all be gone once you get where you’re going.

I think it’s really disturbing that at one moment, everything could be fine.  Then in a second later, the world flips, and you’re gone; as fast as sparks flying up from the fire.  There is no goodbye, the end comes too fast.

Now here I am by myself, crying for all the people I don’t know and never will.  I am thinking of all the things they’ll never see, all the things they’ll never do, and always wondering why they weren’t supposed to.

Close Your Eyes

DSCN3894

Have you ever simply closed your eyes and just listened to the breeze?  Listened to the whistling of the leaves and that quiet in between?  There really isn’t anything else like it.  It carries you away on a lighthearted symphony that is so soft and so free.  Take a moment and come along with me.

When you’re here, there’s never any rush.  Take your time, and embrace it all.  Look around you, breathe it all in.  This is beauty in its rawest form and you are here to witness it.  Listen to every chirp, every groan, and every creak.  Let every sound, smell, and sight fill you up.  Lay in it and let it hold you.

What you are witnessing is a living, breathing masterpiece; a muse eternal.

I have never felt a love, a joy, or a sense of wonder like this.  Nothing can compare.  I am whole here and there isn’t a worry in the world.

So close your eyes and take a moment. Take it now.  What you’re missing is floating on the wind.

Into the Wild

DSCN3296

My senses are alive with the fragrant aroma and magnificent view.

I am consumed.

I have given myself over to something larger.

Something wild and untouchable.

Something so alive, so powerful.

It is all dancing.  It is singing.

No, she does not dance for you.  Nor does she sing for me.  This is a piece presented for no one and that is the most beautiful thing about it.

 

 

 

 

© All pictures and words are my own.

Love is More Than Just Two People

This gallery contains 28 photos.

Love is more than just two people.  Love is a connection to something bigger.  I can see that now. I’ve been going for a lot of walks with my camera lately and everything seems so much more alive than ever … Continue reading

My Fear

DSCN2085

Fear is a large blanket, covered in many different scenarios.  Fear means many things to many people.  For me fear is the movement of six little legs, moving my way.  Fear is standing on the peak of my favourite mountain, looking down, and trying not to let the edge pull me off.  It is the affection of a lover from whom I have yet  to gain trust.  Fear comes to me in the form of a compliment I do not believe.  Fear is not knowing what is lurking in the shadows when I am alone in the eve’.  Fear is opening up my doors and dropping all of my walls with a very great chance of being burned.  I am afraid of moments like this, writing a post, where I fear I am unable to outdo my last one. Fear is that moment when my heart nearly stops in my chest and I don’t know what to do next to change the path of the situation.  Fear is the bane of my existence.  The thing that holds me back from all of the wild adventure in the unknown.  Fear for me is the word “no” when “yes” should be the only answer.

 

What is fear for you?

 

All pictures and words are my own.©

My First Love

Mashing the back of the fork down on top of the eggs  is my favourite part.  I love to watch the yellow yolk as it streams out over the toast like syrup.  I smile at mum as she comes over to cut the toast and eggs into little pieces for me before heading back to bed.  It is the early morning, I am four, and these poached eggs on toast are my favourite meal.  There’s just something about the toast, the gooeyness of the egg, and the flavour of the pepper that just captivates the senses.  I don’t care that no one is sitting here with me, for I am too immersed in the enjoyment of this moment.  The warmth is filling up inside my belly as each tasty bit finds its way into my mouth and I fall in love. Finally the inevitable happens and I have eaten it all. I am saddened once no egg bits remain so I stay seated, staring at my empty plate.  Why couldn’t that moment have just lasted a little bit longer?

20130710_110731

Today, I am nineteen, and these poached eggs on toast are still my favourite meal.  However, my plate need no longer remain empty, for I can reach the stove.

 

All words and pictures are my own. ©

 

Someone I See But Do Not Know

Jittery and abrupt, this man takes no time to be patient.  His body quivers with the anticipation of his daily coffee.  It is not the happy quiver of excitement that consumes him, but the shakes of a man seeking an escape.  I never knew that coffee could be an escape but I suppose it may be for some.

His eyes jump out at me as he asks for his regular coffee and he tells me all the woes that have ruined his day.  It is only 9 am and he has no optimism for what may come.  His coffee is a centimeter too high in his cup, his voice grows.  I dump it out and it becomes too low.  Finally the perfect height is reached and he pays, demanding a receipt.  I smile anyways and he gives me a look which is neither friendly or unkind.  He holds that look for a long moment before finally turning away.

I watch him leave and walk a few meters from the shop.  He lights a cigarette and stares off into traffic.  His windbreaker jacket is an awkward shade of blue and stands out amongst the many people walking by.  I then notice the way his faded baseball cap makes his graying tufts of hair stick out at awkward angles.  Staring at him, I can’t help but wonder about this man and what created him into such an awkward character.  However, there is one thing I am sure of… he will be back in 20 minutes for his free refill.

DSCN1578  ©