Persistence.
I guess this is one of the days that I look at the prompt and nothing comes. No idea springs neatly to mind so I just start typing and see where the thought takes me.
I guess in it's own way that is persistence, to carry on doing something even though no concrete goal is envisioned. To persist in writing, for the sake of writing, for stimulating the brain and the imagination.
To continue to excercise writer brain, even when writer brain is feeling fat and lazy and reluctant to co-operate.
Funny how when the ideas as slow to flow the clock is even slower and those ten minutes feel more like twenty. Time I realised long ago is relative to my absorbtion or otherwise in what I am doing.
Time races along like the proverbial hair when I am enjoying myself, or even when I have a deadline to meet and feel like I am risking the deadline flying by before my project is finished. And then at times like this time slows to a crawl, and then almost to a standstill.
Four minutes left and a blank page in front of me. Time you have my permission to speed up now. Look I am persisting in writing but really have little to say about persistance. My thoughts are whirling around in chaotic circles, making little sense, having little relevence to what I am trying to write but still they continue their insane dance. Almost like they're saying, "go on then persist through this if you can". A competition between my inner demon and my conscious awareness.
Starting Over
It's been a long time since I've been this nervous. I woke up at 6, even though I didn't need to. Tried to fill the hollow pit in my stomach with a light breakfast, a little toast and an apple. It didn't really help. Just highlighted for me that the emptiness was fear not hunger.
Being as I had so much time to spare I ran a deep lavender bath, and lay there soaking, breathing in the fragrance that never fails to relax me. I felt a little easier then as I eased my body into the new outfit, the fabric feels so fresh and crisp against my skin. It was as though I slipped on a layer of confidence with each garment.
I left home in plenty of time, probarbly too early but relying on public transport I factored in extra minutes in case the bus was late. As I walked in through the wide doors that made me feel tiny in comparison my heart started to beat faster and faster. Tiny butterflies played out a wild dance deep inside me and my breath came in ragged gasps.
Finally I arrived. Checking my appearance briefly in the window before entering. , ......
Time
The Circle of Life
Don't weep for me
My time has come
And thought it was
not always fun.
I've no regrets
to speak about
My life was full
of that no doubt
At my birth
A mothers tear
with gentle love
She held me near.
Then in my turn
I bore a child
My blessed one
A trifle wild.
She grew into
a Maiden fair.
With cheeks so pale
And flaming hair.
They went so fast
the passing years
And now I feel
my grandchilds tears.
Don't cry for me
Though I must feel
The turning of
Fate's heartless wheel
I've walked my path
Now we must part.
Remember me
with joyful heart.
Lazy Sunday Afternoon
It was just another Lazy Sunday Afternoon, no different from a thousand others, and yet unique in it's own way. She lay there in the hammock, her body perfectly supported except the one arm that draped languidly over the side and gently stroked the grass.
The afternoon was delightful, a gentle breeze sliding over her body kept the temperature from becoming too hot. The scent of new mown grass floated on the air and tickled her nostrils. She wondered who could find the energy on such a balmy day to mow lawns.
It was a dreamy day, a castles in the air day, a capture a perfect memory day. Though she appeared to be half asleep her mind was busy encapsulating every detail of this idyll and storing it to be brought out a source of comfort during the darker days.
The clouds drifted lazily overhead, dancing a slow minuet, then drifting apart forming shapes, over there a castle, and here an angels wing.
Time
Silver Lady
"Silver Lady Shining Bright
Be with me now oh Queen of night
Golden King Lord of day
Come to this ritual now I pray"
The words echoed clear across the forest clearing, as the lone figure began her solitary ritual.
Clothed in a robe of cream cotton, topped with a cloak of Maroon suede, still this was not the figure of a sterotypical pagan.
Young and beautiful maidens, shedding their robes and dancing skyclad with horny old men. This was the picture that most of her friends held of pagan ritual.
But this lone woman, in her mid 40's, grossly obese and having some difficulty moving had discarded all the stereotypes. She had put other people's expectations to one side and come to attune with deity in her own individual but meaningful way.
Alone on this night of the full moon, this eve of greatest power she once again gave her life into the hands of the universal energy.
"Mother Moon, Father Sun
Air Water Fire and Earth,
On this night we merge as One
Bring Healing to the world, rebirth"
Her voice rang out laden with the confidence that came from knowing her place in the universe. From drawing the cosmic energy, letting it flow through her and merge for a while with her own energy in her solar plexus. Before sending out to fulfil it's purpose and her intent.
She danced around the circle, whirling faster and faster as the energy flowed through her, mounting in a cone that could almost be seen rising above her body. Untill at some unseen signal the dance stopped, suspended in space and time for a silent moment, then she threw her hands into the air and released the energy out into the universe.
It's too soon to tell
What will the year bring. Will it be a year of change and growth. A year of stagnation and struggling hard to regain the ground maintained over the previous years. Or even a period of slipping back, once more falling headlong towards that black pit of depression in a strange way so comfortable because it is so well known.
Just three days in, the year is so new that to touch it leaves fingerprints. Still swaddled in bright wrappings, just the tiniest corner torn down to peer inside and try and view the contents. A prod, a shake a rattle, hold it to my ears and listen closely, sniff to see if I can make out a fragrance, some clue to what's in store.
Of course there is no way to tell so early, except,maybe the year is malleable. Perhaps I can decide what the year is to hold. Like a magician pouring energy from his fingertips to manipulate the fragments of time and space I can with personal energy transmute the coming year in accord with my will.
It's just too soon to tell but somehow I believe it's going to be a very good year. I will make it so.
