I want to write, I could possibly even say I long to write. In a single day, I have a million and one thoughts that race around in my head like strong, powerful horses stampeding around an endless racetrack. Sometimes these thoughts run through so fast, I wish I had reigns to pull them back and say “Whoa! Where are you going so fast? Please, hang out with me for awhile. Sit and let me enjoy you before you dart off and disappear just like the second, the minute that they happened in.” Gone, in a blink of an eye.
I have recently discovered that if I actually take the time alone with each of these thoughts individually, they are truly worthwhile, interesting even, definitely worthy of the few short moments I am allowing them.
I ran around the house yesterday morning feeling extremely disorganized because I had 10 minutes to get my stuff together and get out the door to the second of six writing classes that I enjoy so much I almost feel guilty. It was Valentines Day and Chet was staying home this morning with Randon, as he did last Thursday morning and will do for four more allowing me such a great gift I barely know how to thank him.
I pulled up to the house of the remarkably kind-hearted Ms. Charmaine, who not only permits us into her home without so much as a knock on the door first, but does it at no charge. The wind tore the snow from its once peaceful bed on the ground and whipped it all around me as if I were in a giant snow globe and someone was shaking it fiercely. I let myself in and made my own way through the hall and down the short flight of stairs filled with fantastic artwork that had been painted, drawn and airbrushed by Charmaine and her sweet family. I borrowed a seat around the table among 8 beautiful women and the class began. I found myself lost in their words as each of the women shared the life stories they had written and was deeply touched.
Emotions are a funny thing. I believe they are what make it possible for a person to sit in a room with others, unknown to them a week ago, and feel a connection so quickly through something so simple as their own written and spoken words. Is life really so interesting? I firmly believe it is.
Through my newly acquired love of writing, I have discovered that everyone’s life is a brilliant novel filled with individual stories containing plenty of drama, their share of adventure, hopefully oodles of comedy and unfortunately a bit of tragedy.
This is why I write. I haven’t’ been doing it for long, but have found that I miss it terribly when I don’t. I don’t plan on sharing every story with everyone; at least Chet has declared “you better not!” But, hopefully through continuing it, one day all of my family and friends will be able to look back on their life through my eyes and know without any doubt how much I love them and enjoy being a part of their life’s novel. I can’t imagine sharing mine with anyone else.
2 comments:
Tresa, I've never identified with a post so much in my life. It's great that you have a mentor like your friend who is sharing her gift, in that I envy you. I took a writing class once, but don't feel I gained as much from it as I would have liked. I think you have a wonderful talent for expressing your thoughts and have really loved reading your blog.
My dear Tresa, You are a gem! Your metaphors were perfect and well placed. I am so glad the class is motivating you. Writing success is more about inspiration than skill--if we only understood this we would all write and get better in the process not just our writing improves as we write but our life also.
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