With places like Twitter and Facebook, I now know much more about people’s lives that I really never intended. Feeling as a forced voyeur, I am privy to information like how much sleep one friend had or who’s dog pooped on the rug again. But then, on a rare occasion, I find a post that leads me down a path of self discovery. I’ll start at the first step.
I started on a Facebook post. So, we’ve begun with someone remarking on his uncle in need of a heart. This uncle happens to be a writer and poet with whom he’s very close. Of course I read the post because there is a place for others to help. With charity in mind during a season of giving, I pressed on, which led me to a blog post.
And then…this letter. This letter intended for someone, a relative and friend of the writer. This letter intended not for me, maybe not even to ever be seen by anyone else, moved me. I wrapped my cold hands around my mug of tea and gave full focus to reading it. I barely get into the meat of the message when something familiar whispers in my ear.
” There will be nights crossing bridges you don’t know the name of when some unspeakable beauty envelopes you.”
I know this. I’ve felt this. In a very literal sense. I have actually sat in a car crossing some bridge, somewhere, gazing at the beauty across the horizon and blinked my eyes as if some mental Polaroid was staining that image and storing it to recall on a day when nothing seemed worth looking at.
I froze on this for a while, trying to recall some of those striking moments. Not remembering any, I read on. The literal sense gives way to the figurative. All the time I spent worrying about if my writing was any good, or if it was improving at all, seemed ridiculous now. Maybe just living and writing really is enough. Whether I’ve spent my day huddled up with my laptop or cleaning the house or playing with my kids, my every move is a lesson, a moment, an experience.
So, I’ll continue to write, to read and spend my days multi-tasking and overbooking because that’s what I do. And while I write, I’ll hope I’m evolving in the right direction. “Improvement” is no longer my concern.
My Life Write 