After a long, hot and glorious summer with the kids and my beautiful neice, swimming and bouncing and camping and eating from the garden - and yes, writing too - I'm at work. Just turned in a 20-minute segment for Bexley radio about the Columbus Writer's Conference. And last night, I was approached at a radio party to host my own weekly hour-long show on my favorite topics: conscious living, holistic health, sustainability, and travel.
What an amazing opportunity! And I've got enough ideas to fill 20 hours of programming!
How different from Wednesday when I'd hit writer's block. I felt so drained, a kind of panicky drained, where I'm afraid I'll never be able to write again. A writer friend called, and she talked about her artist dates, and how they seemed like a complete waste of time, but the day after taking time for her inner artist she worked more easily, smoothly.
She's right, I thought. Without hesitation, I grabbed my favorite black and gold fountain pen, my journal, and headed out to the pool where my son lounged in the hammock with stomach flu. I put on a California Guitar Trio cd, and sucked up the freedom of letting myself just BE.
After about an hour, I began to see vivid images in my mind, and this poem fell out. This is its fifth draft:
Decision Maker
We are arrows shot
black against turquoise sky
a silver-tipped swish.
We the bow
the burning bicep
white fingers, blood starved,
hot scrape of string to arm
and the vibrating core
of the bow-master.
In my quiver, a thousand decisions,
aim of my eye,
each shot, destiny wrought.
The arc interrupted by an act of will, or not
interrupted at all.
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The poem reminded me of something I'd read in Khalil Gibran's The Prophet. So I scurried upstairs and found this on page 18:
“You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.”
It's no shame to be trumped by a master, and I have to give the blue ribbon for archery metaphors to Gibran. But it was interesting to see how my language differed from his. We also talk about different subjects - Gibran about the separateness between one generation and the next, between child and parent and how important stability is for how far a child can fly. My poem is about how our decisions govern our life's experiences, and how we can choose to change old patterns through the act of will, or create a positive life by using the principle of trajectory.
In a business and marketing class I'm taking from Freelance Success's Erik Sherman, I've posted this piece of advice on my wall: "through ordered and diligent work, you can take advantage of business that happens by accident." I think that, too, also resonates with the bowmaster and the vibrating core.
I didn't realize I missed blogging this much!
