Wednesday, Aug. 18, 2004
The Taste of Freedom
I'm supposed to be working on the Linux machine. I am instead barely functional, dead tired. Worked late last night and it's been a long, long week already.
I had yet another person ask me about writing professionally, as concerns a specific project. I would dearly love to do that. It's my dream. And I still don't see any way to fit it into my life, which is a crime. It's so frustrating to see the essense of who you are, dangled inches from your eyes like food to a starving man, while your hands and feet are tied and you are not permitted to actually reach out and grasp it.
I am moving toward the goal, nonetheless. I have emotional rope burns on my ankles and wrists, but if I don't fight for it, it will never happen. I want this - I need this. I have to write. It is a monster that never leaves me, a banshee that will scream at me until the pages are completed and in the hands of my publisher. My whole being yearns toward this end, demanding that I give in whatever it takes - tears, blood, soul... It will not be denied forever, nor should it. It is the key to my prison and I know it. The key is mine. I just have to reach out and take it. Somehow.
Mixed metaphors aside, I'm growing increasingly restless here. I have no sense of being home. I am always on 'borrowed' ground. It is not mine and I don't feel free to walk within its boundaries. Even if you subscribe to the thought that no one can truly own the land, there is a sense of belonging that is notably absent right now.
The latest reference to writing hit me hard on several levels. I am not a young woman, though I am hardly ancient. My life to date has been spent in deference to other people's needs and wants. I have taken only one very short vacation in the past thirty years. It is a radical, foreign thought to me, yet my body and soul is demanding a more lengthy rest than a week or so. It isn't possible with things as they are now, obviously. I'd welcome simply reducing my hours to no more than 40 per week of work. I have never not worked, from the time I was a child. My mother made certain of that.
Despite my weariness and the frustration that's pouring out tonight, I believe that in the long run, this is a good thing. It is the frustration that will drive me to take the actions I need to take. Otherwise I'd continue to sit and plod my life away in a world where freedoms don't exist except in name.
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )