I leave today for a writer’s conference. I am excited, anxious and offering it up to the powers that be. I am excited to spend the next week writing with no intended purpose, no destination in mind and just being one with the journey as it unfolds. It is a gift. And I am its very humble recipient.
My life becomes more about what I can put on the page, I mean I kind of live life to be able to write about it. I feel so much better able to express myself here, more so than any place else. Here is where I truly live, untamed and unleashed upon myself. Here is where I come to know my mind, my heart and my soul. Each external journey really just a new road to an interior one. I write while I live and live while I write. The longer I do it, the more I want to. I look so forward to a time when my days just go from one word to the next, written down as my mind empties and my heart soars. My soul holding countenance to them both.
So I will fly East and begin whatever this conference is. I will become the me that I haven’t met yet. The me that I am not completely sure about, the me that today, I have only an inkling of...as this is writing for me. My mind like a faucet with a not so slow drip, pouring out the contents of my heart, soul and mind one letter at a time. Writing East will take me to new places where I will meet myself again and again. Perhaps filled with ego in the presence of so many other writers. Perhaps I will feel the need to defend myself. Doubtful. Our journeys are joined for this weekend, their success is theirs and mine, mine. I have long relinquished the idea that people are better or worse than me. We are all just here doing the best we can. Some people’s best is pretty fucking spectacular. And others, they are barely getting by. For me, I know this, I am awake and because of that, the words fall from my head and lips onto the page. I cannot stop them. They just come. I no longer block myself from myself, I am here, living, writing.
East where the sun is born. I come from the West where the sun dies daily. It will be a fresh perspective to see the new day born instead of waning. It has been so long since I watched the sunrise in the East. I can still feel its pull, even on days when I am more possessed by its daily death.
I am awash with emotions as I leave my home, my sanctuary and venture out to share myself and my most private words with others who may understand. Knowing, always knowing, that my words are for me. I need to understand and it is in the sharing that I pray to allow something that I have felt, lacked, experienced, longed for, waited, bled or grieved, that some of my words might bring comfort to others who find themselves there too. I leave in search of a deeper understanding of all that I do not know about myself, all that I block the channel of spirit. I pray that as I write eastward that I may find some new way to appreciate just how truly blessed I am.
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