Monday 19 April 2021

P is for ... Pared down ... n ... Personal...



Usually, my posts here have nothing to do with my life offline. That’s a parallel universe, never-the-twain-shall-meet-type-parallel. And my posts have nothing much to do with prose either – it’s mostly poetry, and it’s rarely true, all a tissue of lies fiction, have I told you? :)  A super prominent author said that writing is just sitting at the typewriter and bleeding. I don’t know about novels, or even other poets, but my writing has nothing to do with bleeding. It’s written from an unemotional place, it has to be, otherwise I find I have no word control.

 

But all that’s gone for a toss in the pandemic year. It’s made the parallel converge, the public and the personal tangle up, emotions bleeding into lines spontaneously. I have really written it as it comes, ignored the ‘cooling’ rule and sometimes haven’t bothered to proofread or be particular about how the entry sounds or feels. It’s been a rough year, difficult to process, too much has happened in too short a time. It’s realigned some priorities, I don’t know if that’s temporary or permanent, and I’m not overly perturbed by that. Some things are a function of time, I will find out soon enough. Things fall apart, yes,  but they also fall into place if I stop panicking and flailing about, freaking out trying to micromanage every detail. The last year has shown me that beyond any doubt.


It's not just me though. My entire cohort has had it rough in the past year. I phoned a friend the other day after months and months, I hadn't felt mentally put together enough to call her before, just managed with an occasional word on FB. Marking my presence but really quite absent. Anyways, we caught up properly and I got to know of the losses she has had to cope with. Not an elder generation, but peers and even younger family members, horrifying, untimely, traumatic. Perspective! - is easily lost but mustn't be. 


I'm using this A-Z, my own pared down, themeless random, write-it-as-it-comes, read-when-able version, to regain some of that perspective. To find my way back to some sort of peace. Each day I push the shadow of the pandemic off by a sliver. Reach behind my recent memories and dredge up the ones from an earlier, less stressful, happier time. I open long ago albums, some from decades before I was born even, and the monochrome photographs with their fussy scalloped borders soothe away the roughness, a grain at a time. Every day I think of one positive about my parents. I make it a point to reiterate to myself that the manner of death is less significant than the manner of the life that's been lived. They lived long and happy, and were separated for less than a year in the end. There's a lot to celebrate, a lot to be grateful for. That's what is paramount. 




A-Z Challenge 2021  

8 comments:

  1. Perfect post and reminder. Thank you.

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  2. Hari OM
    ... and I am struck how our lives have been running in Parallel, Nila! My AZ is serving that same function - a catharsis, a Patching, a seeking and sorting of Priorities. Writing from one's core has Proven worthwhile, for there have been some fabulous comments and responses; as if abandoning the usual 'boundaries' (self set) has freed up the writing... allowed it to bleed? YAM xx

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  3. Hi Nila - I am seeing life now through your eyes ... but am so grateful I haven't had to worry re parents - nor children. Also I've been blessed with resiliency with my genes ... so I totally relate to what you're saying about your own thoughts and pandemic muddle as we progress with age. Thank you for this - with thoughts - Hilary

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  4. absolutely and your writing has been lovely - it's okay to pour out on the page to try and make sense. And believe me - your writing is stellar, no matter what you think or didn't proof. We bloggers are in this together. Take care

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  5. Very well said. This past year has brought a lot to the surface and we've had our own way of dealing with it.

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  6. I find this profoundly powerful. It's impossible for me to believe any of us have or will emerge from this pandemic journey unmarked, unchanged; and some of us unrecognizable to ourselves. This to me is like a flower bursting from bud - not necessarily in the sense of something beautiful emerging, although that is often true. But rather the grand gathering of all that cannot be denied, hidden, or kept in check any longer finally opening the veil that has shielded and showing the unguarded heart. This is the opportunity to see evolution as it is occurring, and it feels both sacred and scary.

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