I remember when I was trying to find myself after I divorced my first husband. I had too many and not enough words to come to grips with what my life had become.<\/p>\n
I had very little, but I did have my piano.<\/p>\n
And I played that piano. There may not have been words, but there was music.<\/p>\n
With the music, I could reach the feelings that I couldn’t express. After time passed I could move into my life again.<\/p>\n
Yesterday, I was talking with a friend about a writing project I want to start<\/p>\n
Except I really don’t want to start it.<\/p>\n
It’s a tough one. It will require a lot from me. I will have to grind up my soul again.<\/p>\n
I have a lot of reasons not to do it.<\/p>\n
And the one reason that counts.<\/p>\n
It’s calling me.<\/p>\n
But I don’t want to answer.<\/p>\n
I’m tired. I have done this before. What do I really need to prove?<\/p>\n
Maybe it’s enough.<\/p>\n
So as I was telling her all about it, and all the reasons why I don’t want to go there, and all the reasons it’s pointless<\/p>\n
I said, “Maybe I need to make some time to play my keyboard.”<\/p>\n
They are adjacent, even if they don’t overlap. Music and words occupy different regions of the imagination.<\/p>\n
Music can be there for me before words are ready.<\/p>\n
And when I can find my way to one that could be the lookout point which shows me where to go the rest of the way.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I remember when I was trying to find myself after I divorced my first husband. I had too many and not enough words to come to grips with what my life had become. I had very little, but I did … Continue reading