And so at last, a month of poems comes to an end. New chapters of my life are waiting to be written. It’s all in the journey.
When I decided to take March as a month devoted to play I did it because I was afraid of something. I was afraid that after all I had gone through in my life, all I had endured and overcome, all I had challenged myself to learn, well I was afraid it still wasn’t enough. I was finally in a safe place where I had the freedom to write, to create, whatever I wanted or needed to create. I had all the love and support a creative person could want. I had a family I loved, a home I loved, work I loved to do and friends to share it all with.
And I looked around at my wonderful life and I thought, Sheesh, here I am, finally, and I don’t know how to be happy.
That’s sorta what I had hoped the month of play would help me learn how to do . . . how to be happy. But all that thinking while I was playing with paint and collage helped me learn something unexpected. Knowing how to be happy wasn’t the problem.
I have always written/created from a place of pain and used my writing to help me make sense out of my world.
Surprise. I’m not in pain anymore.
Now I’ll have to learn to create from this new place, a place of questioning….which is always a good basis for story-telling.
Poem a Day #30
It’s really so very simple,
this job of mine.
Journey forth on grand adventures,
record the moments,
then share my findings
with those who care to listen.
The best stories will be found in bits and pieces,
of a life well lived.
Susan Taylor Brown
All rights reserved
Again, thanks for letting us be part of your journey of discovery. To have replaced pain with questioning must be worth these past months of exploration!
What a huge realization. I love the surprise of realizing you’re not in pain and look forward to what comes next!
Ah, dear sister, it seems traits run in the family whether blood related or not. I like your thought about being in a new place of questioning. I think I’ll join you.
Here’s wishing you a continued life well lived, Susan.
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There’s a part in the novels of Erica Jong where the main character, a writer, speculates that she has to be unhappy in order to write. And a friend suggests that isn’t true–that different work will come from a place of happiness. Not less work, or inferior work, just different work.