Write down the thoughts of the moment. Those that come unsought for are commonly the most valuable.
Thoughts of the moment: I am feeling lost. But it’s a wonderful kind of lost. A dizzying, euphoric, instructive kind of lost. An I-don’t-know-what’s-coming-but it-will-be-grand kind of lost. I am feeling scattered. Stretched. Between places. Good places. This place. This blog. This world of almost three years. I’m feeling uncertain here. Distant. Shy. Not sure why. I think I’ve changed. I think there are things I feel, and deeply, that I am hesitant to share because they are mine, ours. I think once upon a time I would have shared them. Why? To connect? To exploit self? To garner commentary? I don’t know.
My writing is coming in beautiful fits and starts. A story is taking shape. A story that keeps me up at night and invades my dreams. My characters are real and lovely; they share in an exquisite, utterly human, and heart-wrenching fallibility. I love them already and can’t wait to see who they become. But this will take time, I’m realizing. Their evolution. It will take time because I’m tethered to three real characters, little girls who distract me, and delight me, and make me. These are my protagonists of the moment. This is the truth, a truth that is simple and hard. Simple and hard and plain as day.
I have been thinking a lot about identity, about love, about change.
I have been thinking a lot about thoughts, how they come, and how they shape us, and where they go if we don’t say them, or write them.
I have been thinking a lot about home, what it means, whether it is a place, a space, or a state of being.
I have been thinking about family, whether we have one, or more, or maybe many.
I have been thinking about life. How it can be good and complex and confusing all at the very same time.
I have been thinking about moments. How they arrive, and settle, and disappear. How they are recorded, how they are remembered. How they are properly lived. How they are properly loved.
I have been thinking. And that’s a good thing. Because what are we without our thoughts, without our moments?
What are your thoughts of the moment? Do you agree that it is sometimes important to just get them out, or down, to acknowledge the unpolished ether of their mere existence?