Trying to begin something new. Sometimes the process is like trying to
get a dampened match to ignite. Powers of concentration take flight and I
experience an Internet take over. Then a little quiet contemplation. Then...
I'm thinking about that match again. Perhaps I should take an enormous
deep breath and exhale slowly onto the head of the match, but I think I've
tried that in the past and it is like opening Pandora's box and seeing something
even more unorganized that my thoughts at present. Its a conundrum or in present
speak a "no win situation."
Oh, the muses are so flighty. Why is it that I can lie in bed semi-awake and the
creative juices flow and great text is present and in the morning the light is
bright and the thoughts are fading? Is it just a lack of concentration or aging
taking its effect on my dwindling gray matter?
Last evening, I participated in a public reading of a couple of my blog entries
along with some other more declared and experienced writers. I found it totally
unfrightening. And that is odd for someone who would rather just listen in the
back row and avoid public exposure and/or the failure it can often engender.
So risk can be both alluring and oddly intoxicating. This is new for me. I am
comfortable reading others words, but when it comes to my own - that is really
something I usually run from. Is my current willingness to risk growth or developmental?
I'm not sure yet, but taking the risk feels good just now,
R
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