It's been a while since I picked up my copy of
, but I've been thinking about it a lot since I moved. I guess it just took an uninspired afternoon for me to reach for it, hoping for some kind of serendipitous writing prompt to be waiting for me on whichever page I happened to open. Of course, I never like the first one, so I tried again until I came across a passage that spoke to me.
"In order to write we must have an awareness of who we are--and who we aren't. If you don't know either, writing can help teach it.
Know that writing is born from the ache of contraries, polarities in search of peace, of unity.
But not the unity of making mush. You want to live in the country. Your husband is an urban boy. You compromise and both live in the suburbs. What a squash of desire and energy.
Can you instead hold the tension until something fresh and howling results? You must find your way to this when you write.
What bold restless extremes do you carry inside?
Here are some of mine:
Coffee. Every day.
The best meals start with garlic and butter or olive oil.
I feel that there is no room in life for guilt or regret. Where do you go with either? I try to live each day well and if I make a mistake, I can say I'm sorry--fix it in some way--but then be done with it.
People deserve to be happy. Surprisingly, happiness doesn't always have room in it for everything you thought it might.
There was a time when I was insecure and unsure of myself in too many ways. It wasn't fun, and it wasn't good for me, and I'm glad that time has passed.
I want a big life full of good food and some kids and a dog and all the people I love near me more often than they're not.
When I read, write, run, pray--do whatever it is that makes me feel connected to myself and the Universe that surrounds me--I feel better. Because I am better.
I am often hard on myself and it's usually unfair.
I'm supposed to write. I just don't always know where to begin.
So, what bold restless extremes do you carry inside?