Skip to main content

Doubt And Celebrate



Swirly purple graphic reads 'When in doubt, celebrate.'


Words On Loving Yourself



Plan was this: to go to the woods then come home and write. I had asked my clever brother to make a graphic for me, of a phrase I use and wished to share, because it is so nearly my 50th birthday it was making me feel beneficently wise.

What happened was: I was watching the happy arse of my dog as she thundered towards the river when a bundle of words arrived with a ferocity equal to her velocity, as though she had tugged them into being. Writing was done awkwardly, immediately, balanced on a knee. 
These words:

'Imagine a sheet of paper, imagine you have a spoonful of ink. You fling the ink at the paper;
some of it will miss.
You are like this ink.
But you are not this ink.
You can refling yourself over and over and in doing this create something more fluid, dynamic, astounding, authentic, than anything any of us can fix to paper.
Please breathe and feel your breath. 
Please love yourself.
Whatever doubt you are in, allow it.
Celebrate.'





Labels:

Comments

Susan Flett Swiderski said…
Wow, they were some thoughts worth stopping everything to jot down on paper before you forgot them. Not that you'd forget them... seeing's as how you're not even fifty yet. HA :) I hope you have a very happy birthday, and YOU celebrate and appreciate that you are still YOUNG. Enjoy!
4 February 2020 at 22:40
Lisa Southard said…
The Big 5-0 is now achieved! And I'm loving it :-)
6 February 2020 at 11:51
Susan Flett Swiderski said…
Good! Too many people think they're "old" at forty or fifty. I'm in my 70s, and I'm not ready to give up being a kid at heart yet.
6 February 2020 at 18:09
The Armchair Squid said…
Yes! Life is ink flung at a sheet of paper to see what sticks. Excellent metaphor.

Happy 50th!
25 February 2020 at 17:22
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Contact Pants Conundrum

There is weather today, I do note it: take a few moments to reckon the size of a cloud (big) and the frequency of rain (sporadic.) Centre of my interest though is a stack of magazines. Not the fashion kind. This is martial arts research. I'm not even sure what it is I'm looking for, but intuition calls loud. A range of old adverts skew some amusement. Contact pants, for example. Pants are not trousers where I come from. They are underwear. Professional contact pants: improved smirk value. But why would a person be likely to purchase a grappling hook and a lock pick set? For specialists and hobbyists only, the blurb assures. Guidance on the pheromone spray that attracts women against their better judgement? I doubt it works any more proficiently than the mysterious potion that defines your muscles while you sleep. But, then: I wonder is some sprayed on this paper? What was my intuition thinking, making this ghastly shout… Tea break time. There's a lot of words...
2 comments
Read more

Back From The Future Blog Party

Another joint blog adventure- if you want to see who else said what the list of participants is here . The premise is this: 'You're up before dawn on a Saturday when the doorbell rings. You haven't brewed your coffee so you wonder if you imagined the sound. Plonking the half-filled carafe in the sink, you go to the front door and cautiously swing it open. No one there. As you cast your eyes to the ground, you see a parcel addressed to you ... from you. You scoop it up and haul it inside, sensing something legitimate despite the extreme oddness of the situation. Carefully, you pry it open. Inside is a shoebox -- sent from ten years in the future -- and it's filled with items you have sent yourself. What's in it?' Here's how I imagined it: Before dawn? Shadows outside, first forming. Sleep has gone, I don't know where. Coffee I can find. All the way from Machu Pichu, this fair-traded pack. Scissors are in the drawer, which ...
26 comments
Read more

A Glitch Or Two

My Chromebook has been crumbling. It seems a little like dementia, this inability to upgrade its powers of communication, it makes me sad, even for an object. It's one of the reasons my posts here have been put aside, that and generally being tumbled by tiredness. I have saved up money for a replacement, also I have spent that money on trees and shrubs. I have two novels to sort out however, and this will be the reason I save up again. I don't stop writing, even if I don't tell anyone. In the meantime should you need a calm place to go, I have begun a substack account. Please do drop by. If the kettle crumbles we can make tea (or soup) on the firepit. Me on substack:  Lisa Southard
Post a Comment
Read more