I’ve said it so many times—if I don’t write, I’m not living. I’m not in touch with myself. I’m drifting. Sinking. Lost in a fog. Unable to focus.
Since my fall and surgery, add to that: Filled with fear. Premonitions. Loneliness. Self-doubt. Lethargy.
It’s now 3 weeks since oral surgery. What do I have to show for it? Besides a mouth full of hardware, I have meticulous records. They show when I’ve done the so-called basic necessities: medicine, food, salt rinse, and oral hygiene rinse.
Very good, Elouise. But does it make your heart sing? Does it connect you with your friends and loved ones? Does it acknowledge that you’re a real woman with a real life, no matter what the circumstances?
No, it does not.
I woke up today feeling lost. Not a new feeling, but one I wish would go away. Not by magic, but by finding my ‘new’ voice and using it.
It feels like too much. Too soon. Too ambitious. But then, since I’m in control, it can be whatever I want it to be.
I know what I don’t want. Long weighty pieces. Like the food I eat right now, it has to be easy to swallow. Easy to get down on paper. Easy to think and write about. One small bite at a time.
So here’s my idea: one word at a time. That’s all. One word and my thoughts about that word. So just for today, my word is ‘writing.’
Thanks for listening!
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 19 May 2016
Image of delightful woman writer found at salon.com