I have a book written by Julia Cameron and was recently loaned her “The Right to Write”.
What I really enjoy are the exercises. The editor simply but actually brilliantly encourages one to just write. There are simple questions to think on and answer. Once that starts, I find all my own come rushing in. No judge there. That is the magic of it all.
As she suggests it should not be an odd thought to just put the drama around us on the paper. It does NOT belong on a social networking site, and nothing for the public’s control or for opinion, but sacred free-floating thoughts at a set time from once to thrice a day.
Surely, my scribbles must be burned when I am gone. There are instructions placed in the box with the will, my sons.
Playing with her pages encourage me more, though I am so aware there is limited time for readers these days. There are many blogs. So many books. So much cool information at our fingertips.
For me, the joy all about it is in doing it. The simple act of writing. Buying a special pen or crayons. I do not know if the feeling I am expressing compares to a musician’s high when playing that perfect note, or a master gardener being able to harvest that new asparagus. One may cook a great meal, or help someone to heal themselves. I think it is good if we all can find that piece of us. In all of us. It may not gain fame or fortune but the process in itself is like a meditation. Or a prayer.
Now I will tell you about an event that is in store for me. Now it is sunny but humid and a storm is pending. Later I have a date for the drive in. Really. And a picnic for the movie ‘Jaws’ and “Jurassic Park”. I remember going as a kid and squeezing others in by trunk. I remember double dates and long discussions at times (seriously) with friend Paul and we would have to see the movie again to get it. In high school we would go in his model T green truck.. As a small child my siblings and I went in PJ’s and the folks would go a night to see any Clint Eastwood they could get in and we would fall asleep eventually after trips for pop and popcorn. With all those fluids, more trips. I remember hanging out on the hood. Seeing the stars. Learning about the constellations. Seeing grandma up there. Oh yeah, and that flick, too.