The Good Patrons of 750 Words

1 cup

I found this site through the WriteWay app. It was actually a program I received for Christmas one year from my eldest son. I had a recent experience that made me evaluate the choices I’ve made in my life. I’ve wanted to write since I was twelve years old, and have actually done quite a bit of it, but haven’t done anything with it. Life—life happened.

I have three living siblings and one parent. My mom (83) has dementia and COPD; she cared for my special needs brother who is 64 until about four years ago. After a policeman told me someone needed to take control of their situation I stepped up and encouraged my mom to sell her property and buy something closer to where I work. She did, and I moved in and started supervising. Then she fell, broke two ribs and got a concussion. Two weeks later she fell and broke her hip. Just days after she got home my brother went into the hospital. And this is how life has been for the last four years, up and down, back and forth, with mom struggling with mental illness on top of all that. Since then I’ve gone from supervising their household to managing every aspect of their lives.

Recently one of my siblings bragged about having four books in the works thanks to the pandemic, and it felt like she was rubbing it in my face. I probably could have taken it okay except neither she nor my other sister will so much as call my mother or brother. I have been doing this all by myself while working a full-time job as a mental health therapist and answering the crisis line one week a month. I was angry.

A few days after the dialog that got me upset I evaluated my situation and decided to make a change. After all, if one is going to write it often requires a carving out of time from someplace else. So, that’s what I’m doing. During the pandemic I spent almost every weekday at the office while my co-workers were mostly working from home. The past three weeks I’ve been working remotely (just a temporary situation that’s about to end). But, it’s been just long enough to get me in the groove of writing here each morning.

I’m not one to journal, but over the last three weeks that’s what I’ve been doing. I had a client participate in The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron’s Morning Pages a few years ago. As a result he actually finished a screen play he had been working on for a quarter century. So, I’m not a stranger to the concept of Morning Pages, it just wasn’t for me at that time. But, now it is.

I have been more at peace since I can empty my mind (and heart) of all the things that weigh me down. This practice of writing each morning helps me to gain a focus for each day. It has helped to take the sting out of this solitary journey I’m on. It has brought me closer to God.

The muse is alert—creative potential percolating in the far recesses of my mind where the cobwebs are getting swept away. I see them flutter in a ghostly breath, the awakening of inspiration after a long slumber. The benighted grotto responding as kindling does to spark leaping from flint and steal. Shadows dance along the damp stone walls. Soon, I will make my escape out of the darkness and into the light where creative thought procreates with a blank page, bearing the life giving work of creation.