The Glowing Dark
Back in August, I had the opportunity to go to Oiselle’s Big Bird (yes…I know how that sounds) Camp. I reconnected with my Wildcat Tribe, embraced ‘me’ time, and was honored to have spent time with some amazing athletes, both amateur and professional. We were all women driven by similar motivations and expectations for that long weekend. I couldn’t tell you what I looked forward to most, but I can certainly pin point defining moments during that getaway. Although I only spent one hour with Lauren Fleshman, I felt rejuvenated by her reflections on writing, her advice, and the writing exercises she prescribed to the intimate group. I hung on her every word, as if she would be sharing secrets of the trade. I left the session with hope; a hope that still burns within me.
Me & Lauren, ya know…no big deal.
Upon leaving camp, I made a promise to myself that I would carve out more time in my life to uninterrupted writing. When I have this time, I leverage a prompt (usually based on a direction from writing guru Laurie Wagner) and write, without the pen leaving the paper, without making any edits. I misspell words, forget punctuation, and sometimes scribble nonsense thoughts without missing a beat. The exercise leaves me energized as if I just got something off my chest. Maybe it turns into a post that makes an appearance on this page; oftentimes, it remains in my journal.
Aside from all the other crap I manage to squeeze into my life, I’ve been reading more books…and some of those books have been about writing. I am close (real close) to ending my time with Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird. I’m actually getting sad thinking about the last page. I’ve learned a lot, laughed a lot, and even cried a little. I have been on the cusp on breaking through in my own writing, er, well, I guess in blowing off my emotional doors. Her final chapter nailed everything for me.
“Try to write in a directly emotional way, instead of being too subtle or oblique. Don’t be afraid of your material or your past. Be afraid of wasting any more time obsessing about how you look and how people see you. Be afraid of not getting your writing done. ”
After all that (^^^), I had a few experiences over the past couple of days that I jotted down on index cards. I found those moments to be striking enough that I couldn’t get this white light out of my mind. Every night this week, I ran in the dark. I used to do this years ago, but I raged against the light. I wore dark clothing and almost refused to carry any illuminating device. This dark season, I had been regular in wearing (a lot of) reflective gear along with a head lamp and knuckle lights. I love to run through the streets piercing through the darkness with my beams of light. Along most streets, I’m supported with the holiday lights; I feel my face light up. From the corners of my eyes, I glance down at my reddening cheeks, sensing the reflection of the lights, putting a smile across my mouth. These are all interesting responses to me as I do not thrive during this time.
The following collection of thought streams/experiences were tied together this evening. It’s a mosaic of positivity that is my version of a Merry Christmas.
Hiding behind my words, exhaling deeply, biting my tongue.
White, bright light fills the space.
Reflections off of me like a deer in headlights
But, I am only startled, not confused.
Quite the contrary, actually.
Enlightened.
Elevated.
Elated.
It all freezes, held in time, suspended in space.
The deafening silence crashes.
Quite the contrary to the assumptions.
For clarity follows the lifting of the fog.
My eyes breath in the coldness just before the impact.
December 2017
I have to make the best of this. Merry Christmas, friends.
