Saturday, January 5, 2013
When Words Fail
I’m sitting behind the Christmas tree, surrounded by yellow
star like lights and colorful reflective balls. The music drifts up from
downstairs in the kitchen faintly, the soundtrack from The Hobbit. The lights
are all turned off except the tree and everything is peaceful.
As a writer, it is frustrating sometimes. A million words
and ideas buzz around in your head and they’re all beautiful, but there’s never
anything enough to expand upon. I sit at the computer and want to write
something; come up with an amazing blog post, a heart rending short story. I
want to capture fleeting feelings down onto paper and into words, but they
refuse to be tamed. So I sit around and wait for those moments, those rare
moments of magical inspiration where all my thoughts line up into one cohesive
thought and the words brim over from my mind and through my finger tips. But
those moments are very few. It is said the hardest part about being a writer is
actually writing; and though I do love to write the words down; when my wonder struck
thoughts whir unceasingly and words do not seem sufficient for what I want to
convey, then yes, the actual writing is the hardest part. Someone who can
consistently turn out beautiful work is the one who can take hold of a single
thought at any time and expand upon it; not letting it dance tantalizingly just
out of reach. This is probably one of the key things to learn to be a good
writer; one that I’m still trying to figure out. Inspiration isn’t what is
really lacking though; it’s the inspiration that drives out inspiration, the distractions
that flood in from everywhere. But when I do capture what I want to say; when I
put into words a feeling that was so elusive and mysteriously beautiful; I get
a feeling of contentment, of satisfaction with my work. This feeling is enough
to drive me ever on, through all the days when the words don’t seem to want to
come and my mind is filled with frustrations because the ideas don’t want to sit
still long enough for me to think them through. Being a writer is a very hard
and patient trying job; but I wouldn’t want to do anything else, not ever.
The music from downstairs fades, the lights on the tree go
dim and the entire world goes black. My mind, it goes black too, and there is
nothing left. No words, no busy thoughts of things to do, no anxious worries.
Just the heart beat of a trembling, wonder struck soul and this one thing also;
the ability to create anything, to write anything. To be, experience, travel
and explore… anything. The ideas explode and collide in my mind, a beautiful
cacophony of mysteries to be made known. This is what words will do for me;
they will help me unravel the mystery of life, in all its endless, breathtaking
possibilities.
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