Saturday, September 12, 2009

Writers are like the Postman

This has been the longest week, stretching out until there is no more snap left in it. There is a saying, "Through rain and snow, the mail must go through." I think writers are like the postman, and must keep writing through thick and thin, or through the virtual storms of life.

The Muse must not be so delicate that only summer days and warm breezes will inspire her to let go of her talent. Else how would the great - if sometimes rather dark - literature of the world be done? But writers must slog on through the buffets and breaks of living, and embrace more fervently their talent however small, as the chill of grief and winds of worry blow through.

The destination is greater than the trials of the journey. To have created something out of self, to have shaped and pummeled words and thoughts into story and prose, is to live generously. The more circumstances might flatten hope or comfort, the more urgent is the need to open wider the funnel of spark and flame, and pour with gleeful abandon thoughts into the cauldron, to boil down into plot and characters, purposefully releasing the Muse rather than clutching her tight.

Life may occasionally cause us to hold our breath, but sooner than later we must let go, and just breathe.

2 comments:

Marina said...

Sounds like you've been having a tough time. Hope things improve for you soon!

Pandababy said...

Thank you for your good thought Marina. I appreciate that you care.

There are degrees of suffering. One of the worst for a mother is to see her child hurt, and a worse degree is to be able to do nothing to help them. I'm not trying to be mysterious, but some things are not for public postings. The writer post burst out of my struggles at this time to cope with that which I have no power to change. Hope is flailing, but not yet dead.