Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Perfectly Imperfect

“The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.” – Henry Miller

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For weeks on end, I searched; bereft of actually knowing what I needed to find. One moment I would be overcome by domestic frenzy, unwilling to leave a thing undone…and the next I’m lost staring off into the woods with longing etched across my face. Frantic slowly eased into submissive boredom. Apparently, the middle ground is what I found lacking as the days rolled into a month of unsettled compromise.

Whenever the opportunity afforded itself, the open road would call and beckon and I…I would answer. Full of apprehension – tinged with a huge dose of hope, my eyes searched the rolling countryside and scaled the mountains; waiting, watching, for what may come.

Minutes passed into hours, days, and weeks, until the mountainside began to wear a cloak of russet amber and burgundy maple. Goldenrod bent in waves, a sea of yellow nodding from the open fields. Squirrels were no longer frolicking playfully (it’s been a while since a crab apple bounced off my head), rush about cheeks swollen with their winter gathering. For some reason this saddened me. My malaise hadn’t hindered the ever tireless trek of time.

On the road once again, the trip winding down and the pup in need of relief, we stop. In due time she discovers a steep path on an incline, I glance down with misgivings. Oh it’s doable, getting back up would be another thing altogether. The sun glints off something out of the corner of my eye. Pickles had caught the scent of the water and looked up at me begging. Can you guess who won?

I breathe in deep the aroma of river water, mud stones, and damp earth, while standing in the shallow river bed, wet jeans and sneakers, socks soaked through. No, I hadn’t planned on wading in the river with my clothes on. Pickles tends to pick and choose the eventful scenarios and how they play out, more times than not.

The sun warmed the top of my head, the water felt refreshing not cold at all. On each side the river stones went on for miles, an invitation to explore as far as the eye could see. A coil begins to unwind inside of me and I come alive, a smile spreading across my face. Here – here is what I was searching for. Someplace new and untamed, a place where silence echoed and bounced back to me splashed on the shoreline and against my limbs. Imperfectly perfect.

A burnt orange leaf dips and weaves over the stones following the twist and turns of the water – Pickles pounces before the leaf disappears. Kind of like the words I’ve needed these past weeks; flowing along at a trickle, me trying to pounce on the relevant ones, the perfect revision. Perfect words are rare. Imperfect lives with instances of perfection, an easier find.

I’d forgotten the one facet that makes me the kind of writer I am. I’m there in the imperfections, the storyteller who tells the story through my eyes and lets you in.

In searching for the perfection, I forgot to let myself into my own story, my own imperfect creation and I lost the most essential ingredient of all – my words. Revisions are hell, but I have to remember not to lose me in the process.

But then again, I think sometimes you have to get lost in order to find yourself. Hard to believe it’s as simple as that…



Picture from here

35 comments:

  1. So true that losing oneself one discovers self. immerse yourself into the nothings to find the extraordinary everywhere else...your imperfections are perfect too...hugz!

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  2. Finding ourselves is often so easy when we are in nature and with the innocence of an animal. Glad you found your muse again.

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  3. It is amazing to me the healing powers of a river, a tree, a walk. Somehow we are where we should be and all else falls into place.

    I'm glad you found yourself (once again) in such a beautiful setting.

    xo
    erin

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  4. I'm so glad you have found your path to your 'you', your Muse.

    Welcome home.

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  5. Sounds like you've found the right angle! Wonderful :)

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  6. It is good that you have been able to find your way back to creating and doing something that you do so well, which is write.

    Do you 'find' you muse? I am someone who believes it always is there for you to listen to, but you must be still and quiet to hear it.

    That is what I think happened. This walk helped you find your 'quiet'.

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  7. I feel like I go through a wheel of fortune, losing and finding myself all over again.

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  8. it is, indeed, that simple. glad you found your 'voice' again...

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  9. I'm like Pickles -- I can't resist the pull creeks and rivers have on me.

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  10. So glad the 'Muse' has returned to you Indigo.
    Sometimes digging deep into the archives of our minds brings us to a halt against the layers of protection we wind around ourselves. It is difficult to unwrap and face those moments in time. Nature certainly chose a perfect spot for you and Pickles to unwind and let go.
    I am so happy to see a fabulous thoughtful entry from you again.
    Thank you my friend!
    Jeanie xxx

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  11. you are absolutely right. and i really needed to read that today. thank you for that, my friend. you are always the best at that.
    xo

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  12. What a beautiful entry... there is so much beauty around us ... so much to inspire and give us hope and rejuvenation.

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  13. This was so beautiful. I start to suffocate in concrete. I don't even realize it until something...a dog, a trip, a child...brings me back to nature and I realize, it has been months since I actually breathed. Just lovely!

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  14. For some reason, I always find myself again - reborn and rejuvenated in the Autumn season. The stirrings of nature just seem to be everywhere I look, and with such beautiful colours as well.

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  15. the power of nature is a big one for me too.

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  16. The open road beckons to me often as well and I disrupt everything to answer.

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  17. Absolutely beautiful, Indigo. You are not only a writer. You are a teacher. And I am one of your grateful students. Thank you for this line: My malaise hadn’t hindered the ever tireless trek of time. It is the crux of a certain sorrow I have had lately that I have not been able to shake, and that creates a self-perpetuating panic...panic that turns to crisis that recoils back into malaise. Thank you for helping define it for me. xoxoxoxo

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  18. Not losing yourself in the process is HARD! Good luck with all of it. I'm right there with you :)

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  19. I love this post. Revision is both about losing yourself in the story, but not losing the story you wrote. Thanks, Indigo!!

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  20. The beautiful imagery of your words always makes me smile. (hugs)

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  21. it's so worth taking in and acknowledging thee beauty around us. I think a lot of people miss it in their haste

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  22. Fantastic post. It reminded me of fall at first but as I dug deeper into your words the post was really about letting ourselves get into these moments where the perfection is about exploration and spontaneity, rather than a fear of failure or editing ourselves.

    I'm scared of my own revisions too, when I write; because I am such a perfectionist, I will never find my own work perfect until I've rubbed out my own voice completely. Sad, isn't it...

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  23. That's the perfect picture for your words.

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  24. Getting lost to find yourself, that couldn't be more true! I find that my weakest moments are actually my strongest in writing.

    J.K. Rowling wrote most of Harry Potter while in a depressed state still mourning the loss of her mother, look at her now, she'll be one of the most famous writers in the world for ever :)

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  25. Your words are amazing, and your message doubly amazing.
    Thanks for the reminder. Though, I find it hard to believe with your word smithing you could lose yourself for very long.

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  26. Wow, beautiful writing! I love how you embrace the natural world. Your words felt like water running over rocks, so smooth and tranquil!

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  27. Wonderful writing. It's so smooth and vivid that you can get lost in the words and just breathe them in.

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  28. Beautiful, Indigo...as always! XOXO

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  29. Very inspiring! I like the belief in self-acceptance at the heart of this. I love the place you described--seems to lend itself to epiphanies. Thanks for sharing this. Great post!

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  30. It is as simple as that but it's not so simple. People who need to grow up wiil tell others to grow up. Childhood was one thing and it was good in its way but one has to let go of it. One has to let go of the shore, of the land, in order to sail to a new land. The only land one can see is the ship one is standing on. And the destination may not be perfect but perhaps the voyage is.
    DB

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  31. losing yourself to find yourself is so not easy no matter what we tell ourselves...the concept may sound simple on paper but it's never, ever easy. Facing ourselves whether in the mirror on the wall or the mirror of the paper takes courage, willpower, stamina, and quite a few additional adjectives. With your beautiful prose you must have such insight to your soul and into the hearts of others.

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  32. It's always so hard to let go, because we don't know how. Constantly trying to perfect whatever race we are in.

    And yet we know it is impossible to be perfect. Why is it so hard to just enjoy and savour the present.

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  33. Your prose is so beautiful, Indigo, even in "just" a blog post.

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Thank you for giving my silence a voice, my muse your words, and taking the time to discover my prose.