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…
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