Thursday, April 18, 2013

The Other Side of Vulnerable



“To share your weakness is to make yourself vulnerable; to make yourself vulnerable is to show your strength.” – Criss Jami

I’ve never truly been at a loss for words - those denizens clawing and scrambling for every feasible space available in my think tank. I’m used to never having a quiet moment where some character isn’t babbling like mad, desperate to be heard. What it comes down to is the will of the writer (me) and my willingness to allow someone else to read about them, to know they exist with a story of their ownWords tend to be consistent, unlike life.

Sometimes the writer simply needs to hang onto her characters for a bit, needs the madness to consume her every thought and action, to distract from the hard moments real life is so poignant to throw her way.

I’m ready after all this time to let the madness go, to fill a multitude of pages with the blathering, choric, character speak which is mine and mine alone to decipher. To sift through all the storylines and overlapping scenes reminiscent of an overfed blender turned on without a lid. I find myself shuffling through notes, yanking a sentence here and there off the corkboard of my mind searching for the rest of the missing pieces.

Pieces of type obliterated before I was ready; ready to apply a salve of words to my wounds, my experiences or whatever I was writing. Those things needed to stay close to my bosom, to be felt – not heard or seen by anyone but me. This part of life wasn't meant to be shared. Not unlike the hawk I spotted with a rabbit clutched in its talons; talons which secretly ripped into my own heart as I watched the death throes of innocence. I swore I would never allow myself to be that vulnerable or allow my words to make me so. After all, the world eats everyone.

As I continued watching the majestic bird’s strength and breadth not 10ft from me, an insight into the other side of vulnerable began to reveal itself. The hawk arched its neck and looked over its shoulder and our eyes held. This...this was a gift. Sometimes in our vulnerability we make sacrifices of ourselves for the greater beauty encompassing what lies within and without us. I no longer pitied the rabbit; understanding its life presented a lesson, a testament of nourishment and courage. As the hawk spread his wings and took flight, I breathed easy.

I sacrificed words and time to deal with a very raw pain. Now, it’s time to see the majesty my words can make of that pain. The dignity I can bestow on hurt and memories. A writer never truly stops writing, smiles their characters would never allow that. Thank you dear readers for giving me time to grieve, to heal. I need to remember my muse is still with me, she’s never far from heart.

*If your new to my blog or haven't been by in some time, reading the post before this might answer some questions.

14 comments:

  1. I'm glad you're finding yourself. It was hard to see you lost for so long. You're my inspiration. Doc

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  2. I've no doubt in your majesty or the magic with which you will turn hurt into something beautiful and meaningful. I'm excited for your excitement :)

    ((Hugs)) Indigo!

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  3. It takes time to grieve a loss. I'm glad that you are moving to the light again and seeing that we are still here, waiting for you.

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  4. Hello indigo, I am leaving this comment before reading your prior post. Whatever the cause of your pain, which I will look back to ynderstand, your words here are eloquent and strong; stronger in the broken places, said mr. Hemingway

    I understand from myself that words cannot at first do justice to grief. Wise that you can acknowledge that, both then and now.

    "Words and time." I speak of colors and words. We are writers and we are not alone in that special quiet rowdy place :-)

    Love
    kj

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  5. Good to see that you are back with quill in hand...

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  6. You are braver than most, and an inspiration. I'm glad you're back. =)

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  7. So nice to see you back here again! Life can throw so much at us and we all need to find our own ways to deal with it and in our own time frames. People who tell us how and when and how long to grieve don't understand. Time does help but in its own way as well. I hope having your figurative or literal pen in hand will continue to bring you joy and love and comfort. *hugs*

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  8. Whether we like it or not...wordsmiths must 'out' their talent. You are a beautiful writer who has always written from the soul. It's nice to see you return 'home' to what you do best.
    Healing wishes are winging your way.

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  9. I am so sorry for your loss.
    And so pleased the healing process is under way

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  10. Welcome back, Indigo. I'm glad to hear you're starting to recover from your loss.

    I've missed your writing. I'm jealous at how beautifully you write. :D

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  11. welcome back...i am glad you are letting the words have their way again...i def find them therapeutic...its not easy being vulnerable in your words but for real healing it is where we go...travel light

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  12. This was a really inspiring post! Thanks for sharing your experiences with us.

    www.modernworld4.blogspot.com

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  13. Wow, you have an amazing voice and your plight touches me. I'm inspired by your post and glad that the healing process has begun. I can never imagine the pain you went, and still go, through, but I admire your courage to get better and keep living the best you can.

    My warmest feelings to you.

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  14. Thanks everyone for your heartfelt comments! (Hugs)Indigo

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