Raw Feed

I’ve been ducking out of writing lately. It feels as if I’m totally stuck for ideas so I’ve just avoided even trying. So today I decided to make myself sit down, pick up my notebook and pen, and just write. So today’s blog is raw feed. What is fascinating to me is where my mind wanders as I write and how I managed to find some wisdom in there by the end. I’ve written my thoughts on the process and outcome after the blog.

Where has my voice gone? My passion on paper? No more ideas. Dried up, shrivelled up. Why? My soul isn’t dried up. What am I waiting for? Stuck again. Such a familiar place. It’s raw and tough. Hard to put one foot in front of the other. Cold days, bitter winds, sunshine cruel in its lack of warmth. Teasing me. Calling my soul outside though I know it is dangerous to be out there for more than a minute or two.

Dreaming of summer days, writing, sitting on the screened porch. Inside and outside. Sounds of the neighbourhood in the background. Birds singing, rabbits playing tag along the fence line, squirrels doing high wire acts trying to get at the bird feeders.

A cold, snowy day today. A squirrel runs sideways along the chain link fence, too much snow and ice to balance on the top rail. Our brave resident wild bunny is snuggled safely in front of the porch, peering out from deep in the bushes. Our Golden isn’t fooled for a moment as he peers through the railing and dreams of playing with him.

The snow is piled high and leaves the bird feeders so low to the surface of the snow that the squirrels and birds can eat buffet-style, no need to even stretch to reach. I contemplate wading out to refill the feeders, but the thought of being thigh deep in drifts on such a bitter day deters me.

From inside looking out. It is beautiful out there, beautiful yet deadly. The wind lifts the surface powdered snow and it blows across the garden in waves of misty white. The wind howls, rattles the house, and creates strange noises as it finds its ways into nooks and crannies. I’m thankful to be warm and safe, hands wrapped around my coffee mug and music playing in the background.

Today my pen is playing at putting words on paper. I woke up this morning remembering a dream, it felt like a message about writing and teaching. I was searching for diamond pendant earrings lost in what seemed to be un-spun wool. I don’t have earrings that resemble the ones in the dream, but while I was writing down what I remembered it felt as if the message was to find the jewel in among the raw feed.

I remind myself that I am learning to write, that it is new to me, that there are jewels in with the raw if I keep going. Then I saw a clip on FaceBook about artists starting out being unsatisfied with their work, how many of them give up because they cannot produce their vision. The message was, don’t give up, continue to write, paint, draw, whatever you are called to do. You will get better. In the meantime, be kind to yourself. Allow that raw feed to flow, to build, to gradually become the polished jewel you seek to create.

Note: I am fascinated by the synchronicity of the clip on FaceBook. This theme about being Consciously Incompetent has come up several times over the last couple of days, along with the theme of procrastination, so I’m paying close attention. I want to be good at everything I turn my hand to and as I get older I have less patience for learning the craft and with my ability to improve. Time and again I’m reminded that we have to be patient, not just with creativity but with life. When I push or try to force things to happen, it rarely works out. Today showed me that the act of putting my pen to paper, and allowing what I didn’t know was inside to flow, ended up with some great insights to carry me forward. No more excuses, I will keep putting pen to paper and see w

hat happens!

• ← Emotional Awareness
• Voices in my Head →