I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD SLAPS, SPEED BUMPS and LIGHTBULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.

Thursday, February 27, 2014

Doors and 'flutter-bys'

Am reading Katrina Kenison’s THE GIFT OF AN ORDINARY DAY. It was given to me awhile back by a co-worker who loved it. When I started it back then, I thought, of course she loves it, she has two sons like Kenison and one of them is even named Henry, just like Kenison. I couldn’t connect, and set the book aside, until last night.

There is was on the floor next to my couch in the bedroom. Don’t know how it got there, it was just by itself in full view where I plug in the heating pad when I want to keep my feet warm while reading. I know TMI. Anyway I picked up the book and started to read it again.

Kenison’s writing is lovely, very smart, very well done. I easily got lost in her life changes and challenges. And then, at the beginning of chapter five her words about a Joseph Campbell quote flew off the page and startled me like a butterfly rising off a flower I had just buried my face in. Doors, she wrote about Campbell’s doors.

“Joseph Campbell suggested that there is a unique track, a particular life adventure, waiting for each of us, and when we step forward to embrace our adventure, doors begin to open that we never saw before, doors that could not open for anyone else.”

Right between the eyes that butterfly fluttered until I couldn’t help but take notice. I won’t go into the doors which have appeared in my life but there are many, I mean, many, many and they have afforded me, as Kenison quotes, ‘the privilege of a lifetime, is being who you are.”

I have fought the impossible, sought the improbable and reveled in the inevitable. It’s a battle every day and yet when I remind myself that there is a path, and all I have to do is part the weeds to find it, I am at peace with where I am.

I wonder what doors are out there for me today.
What doors are out there for you?

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