And some great bellies ache with many bumblebees
And they sting so terribly
I am starting over, I am always starting over. It is a skill I am on my way to picking up, it is a process I know by heart, the terror and then the small beginnings and then the traction and then the hiccups and then the whistling along. I would like to think that one day I will start again and that will be the last time, but this is wishful thinking, one way or another it always comes back around, I am too much changing to never start again and again. There is plenty in my life that stays, and this makes me grateful, and on those things I will always be building building, but I am also always starting again.
And every time, I think, what if the whistling never comes? What if it is all putter putter and ack and retreat? But then the universe finds me, and she pushes me along. It is always fine, I will always find my way. This is true. Please believe it.
4 comments:
Sometimes I return to your blog, and think that if I were still to think (that is, in any form other than that of a spiral twisting listlessly towards an empty centre), then I would think like you. Or perhaps I just like to think that I could think like you. Or I like to think that there could be a world in which I might still think.
Anyhow, I saw this post today, after absent-mindedly following an unjustifiably dust-gathering bookmark on my computer. The unforeseen clicking happened to have happened while trying to rationalise staying in bed a little longer, and thereby postponing having to figure out how to embark on a day that should involve yet another starting over. I read your words and liked them. Eventually I got up.
The day is through now. And you were right. It was fine. Like always.
Your words made me smile.
Pete
(We haven't met.)
Pete! Hullo again. I appreciate you stopping by. I am sad to hear you have stopped thinking. You always thought the nicest thoughts. I have grown a bit shy with sharing mine on the blogosphere, but they keep sloppily rolling along. Are you still spending your days with the scientists?
Aw, I hope if you're shy then it's because it's a pleasant or useful feeling. Because you write so very interestingly. Sufficiently to awaken an interest in thinking within someone, which must be one of the noblest achievements possible for writing. And so it seems to me that you would have absolutely no need be shy, unless it somehow helped you to be as you are. In which case... carry on.
Also, impressive memory! Yup, I'm still in with the scientists. German scientists these days, in fact. It's nice. They mostly leave me in peace with my not-thoughts. And, in return, I don't mess up their country (except maybe very slightly, when the recycling gets confusing).
Aw, I appreciate that. I suppose most of my thoughts end up in private writing or conversations because it is simpler to speak to a specific person than to the anonymous Everyone. And because I was pretty sure no one actually read this blog anymore. But your words make me want to write more. I believe I will try.
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