Recently, I’ve gotten back to a daily writing of poetry in the early morning. I have also been going through another one of Julia Cameron’s writing challenge books, “Walking in this World,” and was instructed to write about my intention for writing.

My intention is to be more disciplined, less scattered, and more peaceful. I came across this phrase in Gail Sher’s wonderful book, “One Continuous Mistake,”

“The cock crows when there is dawn in me and my words alarm the universe.”

I write because I have things to say, not so much knowledge or wisdom to impart – but a quest. Mine is writing for conversation – to learn in the process of putting pen to paper, of asking a question and receiving a response somewhere before the end of the page. There is an Aha Moment that occurs every time I write. I don’t have that moment and think, “Oh, I should go write that down.” As I’m writing – the Aha Moment happens. I guess I’m a seeker. I chase the Aha’s, the moments of illumination, the fullness of realization, the deep intake of breath when something aligns and makes sense with something else, a connection is made, a direction is formed, a pathway is cleared. There is so much to learn – so many gems of thought to unveil. I read to learn. I write to experience the learning on a cellular level inside my heart and soul and spirit.

The days I do not write, are days when my temper is closer to the surface. I am irritable and easily swayed. I struggle without a compass on days my inner dialogue had no place to play. Having a grounding conversation with my husband early in the morning, or with one of my kids or a friend, can be centering – but I’m frayed. I’ve started the day un-tethered, frazzled and the cords of the weaving have been undone and remain out-of-place all day.

Is it possible that every night in my sleep I take down the tapestry to rework it the next day, every day, every day, every day? In the literary work, The Odyssey, the king’s wife, Penelope, did that every night until her husband could return and her suitors would leave her alone another day. She had someone she was waiting for. What would be the purpose of me doing that? Just for the exercise of everyday building it again?

Maybe the story is a classic because we relate to it so well. So many of us, perhaps, experience a daily unraveling and each day is a starting over trying to remember the lessons of yesterday – to stitch our story better today – to have our rituals that set us right every day.

The thread that binds us.

photo from here