The pain and the joy of writing.....
I am at the moment supposed to be writing a thesis. It is difficult to get going. I want to be at the beach or reading a book or anything but doing this now. Where do I begin? This is always one of the most difficult parts.....the beginning. And then of course there is the body and the end and all the bits that go in between. Nothing much to worry about!!
The funny thing is that once I am into it I love it. I resent having to stop. i love the feel of the keyboard...the shape of the sentences and the sound of words forming into an idea. I really do love it so why does it bring me such pain?
I think that anything we pour our hearts into is the same...we long for the bit of it that is easy and flowing...we are repelled by the hard bits which are where to start and how to link everything together. The practice of it can drive us crazy. But it is worth the effort. Because every now and then, a sentence leaps out at me and I think "oh my god" that is so beautiful. The construction is perfect and the place it takes me to is a wonderful light filled space of air and fullness. It is these moments which keep me coming back for more.
What is it that drives your love and pain and insight?
I have taken 3 days out of family life to just sit in the library and I have a bag full of photocopied articles, writing books of notes and the intention to make something of it all. What will it be - I'm not too sure. I intend to trust int he process of what may emerge. Hopefully something meaningful if not deep will come out the other side. It is a worthy pursuit to look into something deeply, to reflect and take in an idea and then to see if it can expand out into the wider world. Will my notions be relevant, will my reflections be at all interesting to another reader. I can only go for it...
to look into the heart
of matter
and emerge
without loss
or substance
is impossible.
to emerge
with feeling and wonder
is instead
much more.
to bury myself
i must first ask
where can I go
if I am here.
only then do I realise
I
am already there.
Vicki Kelleher April 2014
