Thursday, January 23, 2014

To Be A Writer.....




There's a cool breeze around me, the smell of fresh ground coffee beans, so decadent, my mouth is watering. I hear the ebb and flow of the waves crashing against the shore, emitting a tangy, salty odor, filling my nostrils and fusing with the scent of coffee. It takes me back to yester-years. A little child ambling along the shore, finding debris the most fascinating thing. The sight of it, the feel of it, the taste, though often never what we  were expecting, but alas, still something that should be tried. When you're a child, the world is your playground, your wreckage. To dig, to explore, to stumble and fall upon anything and everything. Life is full of possibilities when you have absolutely no worries.

 So sitting here, sipping my coffee and smoking a cigarette, worrying about what comes next and how this year will turn out and the bills I have to pay and my new health regime I need to dedicate myself to, I gaze ahead toward the ocean. My comfort, my home. There's a fog playing just above the horizon, holding such mystery and just then I am overcome with a harmonious sensation. I have allowed my senses to take control of my being, relieving my mind, body and spirit. A form of meditation perhaps? Perceiving life differently? Looking at things from a new and mysterious perspective? Truth is, we cannot worry about the things we have no control over. Living in the 'here and now" is our saving grace. Today is a gift, tomorrow a mystery. Why endeavor to know what the future may hold, when your time is now?

The seagulls are lurking near any discarded scraps they can find, some swooping down toward a fellow gull in protest. It's a war, a battle for survival. One needs to be dominant in order to survive.. Sitting around, waiting, never served anyone any good. You want something? Go out and get it. A philosophy I have only just learned to live by.

I have had writer' block for a while. It's been frustrating and damn near killing me. But a wise man said to me, just this morning, that I should right what I feel, hear, see and touch. A writer should be able to write about anything because we perceive life differently. A sound we hear or a face we see, a hand we touch can fuel a fire and become the greatest story ever written. So when I gaze upon the ocean, I don't only see water and sand, I see a vast ocean of opportunity waiting for me to grasp it with vehemence. When I hear the waves upon the shore, I hear stories waiting to be written, to be told. When I look at an old man buried in a worn novel, utterly captivated by it's content, I see a thousand lives lived, I see a story of war and love and life. When he forces his eyes away from the paperback and gazes at me, his face etched into a scowl, lines deep and full of worry, moulded that way from years of experiences, I  see the beauty of aging, a painting, perfect in it's own right.

There are many things in life we cannot control, things that should be left for when the time comes. The things we can change though, are our thoughts, the way we perceive life, the way we judge or even the things we hear from another person. Make up your own mind, control your fears, work through your thoughts and perhaps what you see, feel, hear, touch or smell will make a little bit more sense to you and open not just one, but many doors to greater possibilities.

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