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Finding Meaning through Writing

Life, it can be a trial at times, but of course it can also be a wonderful thing too. When the bad times are there though, it can seem like there will never, ever be those good times again.

Some of us have worse things come into our lives, than other people have.There should be no blame laid, without knowing all of the details in a person’s life, you can’t know how or why every bad thing happened.

Sure, some of our decisions can be wrong ones, but sometimes it can be hard to see any other way or ways to go. Options aren’t considered because there needed to be an immediate decision, with no time to look around, just act right then.

If we do get the chance to look at life and decisions, the important things, the things that matter the most, that’s when we can begin to make better decisions, ones that speak to the issues we actually care the most about, instead of making a rushed decision that may serve us ill in regards to what we truly want to happen.

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Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Knowing what we want most, what we believe in, what makes our heart sing, what we most do not want to happen. These are things that will come out if we give ourselves time to think on them, write them down, explore them, and look at the consequences of what you do or don’t do.

Through writing about our lives, we can get a better understanding about these important issues we have, what our beliefs are, what are the most important things to us, why we do what we do, what could we do differently, for a better result?

Answering these simple questions, could have profound results. Why not think about this,  give it a try, and write down some of what you truly think and believe. Be prepared to surprise yourself, and be amazed at what you end up writing!

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Writing

Watching the Screens

On my television screen are couples dancing on ice, zooming effortlessly, creatively on their ice skates, swirling around, waving arms in unison, throw, catch, zoom, zoom! Beautiful, and so elegant!

On the screen of my laptop though, there is nothing as creative and beautiful happening. Nothing creative at all, really. I have been zipping from Facebook to Twitter, and back to Facebook, then back to Twitter, leaving a caring comment here or there with my friends on Facebook, and cutting, even scathing, comments on Twitter. I know people, real people, see my words, because they comment on them, or give a heart or thumbs up, or tweet them, as they feel appropriate.

But, given the fact that I call myself a writer, poet, etc, where are the signs of my own elegant proofs of my talents? Nowhere to be seen. I have two novels I could be working on, and a poetry chapbook I’d like to have published, as well as the beginnings of a longer poetry collection, a better one than the one I most recently submitted to a publisher, that was quite rightly rejected … I can and will do much better than that effort!

But at the moment, I’m flaffing about, doing nothing that could be called creative, and really, it may not even be of interest to any other person – (except for that word back there, “flaffing” don’t you love it!?) My screen is indicating it isn’t an actual real word, judging by the squiggly red line underneath the word. That’s fine though, I am going to use “flaffing” because it beautifully describes the languid and useless way I’ve been wandering around today, and wondering about things too.

My poetry, my novels, oh and that non fiction book I’ve begun too, will they ever come to life as published books? Well, no, not if I don’t manage to go from wondering, to actually writing, there is no way that can happen. Writers have to actually write, if they wish to be published.

Thinking about the two screens I’ve been looking at today, the action on the TV screen was far more interesting than the action happening on the sofa, where I am currently sitting, writing this blog post … The only action happening here is when my dog Missy, lying on her own sofa, moves her ear, in response to a sound; or me, when I get up to make coffee, and then reach over to take another mouthful of coffee.

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I’m hoping this third cup of the day may finally make something creative happen in my head,  but in reality, I suppose I’d be better off if I opened one of my creative writing files and just started writing more of that novel, or the other, or one of my poetry things, or the non fiction one.

Filming me writing wouldn’t even be as interesting as watching grass grow, because at least outside, there would be birds flying around and doing the things birds do all day. Getting food, nesting, flying, flying, and flying. If the growing grass got too boring, you could point the video camera at the birds, for sure. Sparrows, starlings, maybe crows, honeyeaters of a couple of different kinds, it’s all happening outside, as well, of course, as the grass which grows, and grows.

The skating has finished now, there seems to have been a bit of uproar regarding a low score one of the couples received, I’m not sure, I was only watching the zooming skaters in passing, not intently or anything like that. All I know about ice skating anyway, is how it feels when you crash to the ground, which happened to me when I was a lot younger than I am now. I bruise too much to ever want to be a skater. And I don’t like being cold either.

Anyway, enough of this wandering and wondering, I am going to actually look at one of my writing-related projects, and see if I can add anything useful to any of them. Seeya later!