All these things that I've done...

The morning I woke, after the last day.

The day after, the noise.

The day after, the last time I saw him.

The day after, the last day, of being well in the knowledge of my ability.

There was silence.

Deafening silence.

Although when I cast a glance over to the glass jar of the last 6 months, all the chaos, all the joy, all the pain, there was a slight muffle from everyone who was still trapped in there. In that glass jar. Or so it felt.

It was after the initial silence that the tidal waves began to sweep over and over, seemingly relentless. The relief came first. The relief of not having to move. Not having to force myself out of bed. To scramble to get Mali to daycare, having to swim upstream against the peak hour of the city, reminding myself to breath. And that was on a good day.

Then there was the numbness and the associated plea to stay within the dull ache of nothing as I knew what would come next. The re-living of it all. The highs, just as painful as the lows, because they were no longer there. Just a thing of the past now, an 'accident' almost. Taken just as quickly as they had arrived. Some would say easy come, easy go. But nothing about the ferociousness of navigating the last 6 months had been easy.

The shame and embarrassment of being let down and of feeling as though I had let everyone down in turn. I had jumped ship like never before, the deck was on fire and I hurled myself into the depths of the murky water.

I'm currently adrift at sea and, while peaceful, it's mostly concerning, as I am unable to see land in sight.

What's in a name?

Recently I have been considering what encompasses a ‘writer’. By what criteria are we able to add this to a person’s title? In context:

“Here is my mate Teo, he dabbles in black and white photography, is partial to a bucket of frozen margarita mix. Oh and he is a writer”

Now there are the obvious indicators which I will assume are proportionate to commercial success, publications, fans and financial security. Someone who can put pen to paper for a living would be what most people qualify as a writer.

But what about all of those insanely talented people who were unable to relentlessly pursue their love in life or find it viable enough to express themselves, their imagination or penchant for strategically stringing words together day in day out?

You could then go to the other extreme and treat the word ‘write’ quite literally. My niece can now spell her name as well her little brother’s and those of her parents. Is she now a writer? In my opinion yes and much better than a lot of what I read on a daily basis.

Alternatively, could our best screen plays, poems, and essays be replaced by a cleverly scripted thesaurus program that was able to construct a range of adjectives, nouns and verbs into a sentence… a chapter ….a novel? OK, possibly a bit extreme. But maybe a million monkeys......hmmmm.

Its seems there is quite a classic structure for a lot of funded blogs and opinion columns. Simply pose one of the many ‘big questions’ to your readers, then cite and link back to a few ‘recent studies’ and ask the readers for their opinion and or related experience after sharing your own. This is not to dismiss the wonderfully unique and insightful few that have enriched the on line community. Admittedly there are two driving factors behind this post, namely;

1. A handful of people I know who, are so gifted when it comes to writing, I selfishly wish they would take the time to scribe more as I very much enjoy reading their stuff as I believe would many others 
2. I want to write more. I think I need to but I am so apprehensive about my ability as well as the fact that I have ABSOLUTELY no idea what it is I actually want to write about. 

I have visions of people reading my stuff going: 'yeah well I can kinda see what she is trying to say but the questions remains....why did she bother?'

Anywho, what I do realise is that when I look back after time on things I have written, is that I really enjoy them. Once I stop being so critical and sifting through each sentence with a fine tooth comb I gain perspective and appreciate the sentiment of what's there on the page.

So I will now trust the process. I sometimes don't write anything as I prematurely resign myself to the fact that I won't be able to finish anything I start.

Well. My way around that now is to post in snippets. As each mini epiphany comes, it shall be posted. No more excuses.

Namaste