May 15, 2013

What if I Forget How to Write?

via Tara on Pinterest.

Sometimes I have the silliest of fears.

It started quite innocently with a monster under the bed—but as I grew older these thoughts grew bigger as well.

Today, I was worried that I might someday forget forever how to write.

I mean, what if tomorrow all of this inspiration was gone? And, what if these words just stopped flowing along?

I suppose it’s a panic that every writer feels from time to time—and every once and again that one day this magnificent gift of inspiration might just suddenly and forever disappear.

It reminded me of the very first time I brought my newborn son home from the hospital. He had such a rough first few days living in this brand new world—locked away in the farthest corner of a dimly lit Neonatal ICU. And I, a new mother, and not yet knowing what to do, spent every single moment, of every waking hour, slipping my fingers through that tangled mess of wires just to simply touch his hand.

And, when that day finally came, when I was able to bring my baby home—I was overwhelmed with gratitude at this gift of a most precious human life—that I literally spent every single night of those first few months sleeping with my fingers resting gently on his tiny little chest.

You see, I was so terrified that something might happen to snatch this gift away that I barely slept more than a few hours, if at all, with each passing evening.

It was the very first time I had faced the reality of impermanence—the impermanence of life and life’s most special moments.

Writing has become such a joy for me—that in some ways, I feel a bit like a new mother all over again…carefully protecting this amazing gift that has been so graciously shared with me.

And, when inspiration stops me dead in my tracks, urging me desperately to copy down these few short words before the magic of this thought is forever lost?

That’s when I find myself clinging intensely to that one thing I feel might soon be gone.

Perhaps, that is why I am here tonight with my fingers resting gently on inspiration’s chest?

And, as I look over to my son standing here next to me today, my heart is immediately calmed and my fears simply melt away. Because in him, I see all of the love and life’s lessons I’ve shared with him along this way, radiating brilliantly for all of this world to see. And in his eyes, I see a bit of my own spirit reflecting back to me.

Everywhere we turn we are faced with impermanence…but in some way, our spirit lingers on.

I just hope that mine may linger on through my words.

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Ed: Bryonie Wise

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