I’ve had writer’s block for months now, which for me, feels a lot like needing a good cry with blocked tear ducts. I’m not sure what bought it on exactly, except that I’ve felt overwhelmed with the sting and rip of the world’s current trauma and I have taken it all quite personally. I don’t suspect that a person wants to take such things to heart (war, racism, oppression, murder etc…) it’s just the inundation and brutality of it all overwhelms us sensitive people. It feels a lot like having an angry parakeet on your shoulder repeating the tragedy of the day over and over in your ear. It’s maddening and sometimes inescapable. When that happens, I can’t write. I mean, I can scribble some quick thoughts to page and blurb about the reality of injustice, but I can’t be poetic and free flowing on a constant basis. This is quite painful to me.
But today, here on this beautiful island, I am free. My thoughts are chasing my fingers and I am young at heart in the free flowing nature of my poetic being. I am fearless and relentless and happy. Oh sweet quiet solitude of joy, how I miss you.
I took a walk on the beach with my son this morning and we found again, the reason why we keep returning back to the ocean. Its expanse is breathtaking and reminds us of our small but significant place in this world. It reminds us to be grateful.
I stopped trusting humanity this year. I stopped believing that people really do want to come together to achieve peace and create a world for our children that will be better than what we have. I stopped believing that racism, sexism and all the all other isms were losing ground and slowly dying. I shied away from people with extreme views on the world that just didn’t seem realistic in nature. We all can’t be the same. How hard is that to fathom? Yet, that seems to be the main bone of contention within humanity. If you think like me, worship like me, politicize like me, then you are right like me. I swear that will be on a t-shirt soon enough. So I began to dread people and their voices and commentaries about morality in an immoral and wounded world.
From deep inside of me, rising slowly but surely, was a shock-wave of anger which announced itself in verbiage wrapped in thunder, sounding something like: “JUST BE THE DAMNED THING YOU CLAIM IS RIGHT AND JUST!!! JUST LIVE IT AND STOP TRYING TO ENFORCE IT!!!” That’s what I want to tell zealots in any form. Nothing good ever comes from force. Deep sigh. Those words have been brewing within me for some time. I’m freer now because they are outside of me and not locked up anymore.
As we walked along the beach this morning, we approached a lady and her dog. I wanted to turn and go the other way (because I wanted to avoid the people thing) but we were too close and it would have been obvious. Right before she got to us, she bent down and picked up what I thought was a seashell and walked towards us. She stretched out her hand and said “This is a sand dollar, take it back with you and dry it in the sun. This can be your souvenir from Emerald Isle.” Humanity…just when I think I have you pegged, you change the game on me.
Trust is subjective…