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I’d rather write than talk. Nobody interrupts! Posting monthly or less now--see below. |
My original purpose for this blog, which I started in August of 2019, was to see if I could maintain consistency, to discover what I want to write about, and to find my writing voice. In January, I started a "niche-less" blog at Wordpress.com where I've published weekly. -- Kit’s Kontemplations  . -- I'm preparing to start a Catholic blog on Wordpress.com where I'll post weekly, and another site to put the rest of my writing. I also want to spend more time reading other blogs and offering thoughtful comments, both here on WDC and elsewhere. At most, I will publish once a month at no set time in this blog starting in September of 2020. Thank you to those who have read and rated any posts on this blog. I really appreciate it. I did NOT want to write “about” me on this blog. I wanted to share my interests, discoveries and maybe a few useful insights. If anything I've written helps even one person, whether or not they respond to the post, then this blog has been successful. |
Given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain. —William Faulkner Having nothing, knowing nothing, feeling nothing is to be nothing. It is to be dead, a robot or something less than human. To exist with no thoughts, no heart, no awareness, no soul is to lack the capacity for joy, excitement, passion – or pain. Kahlil Gibran wrote in The Prophet in the chapter about joy and sorrow: The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Few of life’s most profitable lessons come without mental anguish, emotional suffering or physical pain. Most of us require pain of varying degrees to arrest our attention as we hurtle down the road to self-destruction. Some of us slow down enough to notice another path. A few of us veer off that road to explore an alternative path. The pain of loss, remorse and humiliation has brought many addicts to their senses, providing the courage and willingness to take the path leading to healing, growth and restoration of health and sanity. The pain and terror accompanying a terminal illness has motivated many to bury resentment, embrace forgiveness and experience renewed joy in previously difficult intimate relationships. Some facing incredible suffering reject God entirely and others seek Him out. A severe depression in my early thirties made me aware I needed therapy as well as medication. With help and support, I examined the attitudes and perceptions that drove my behavior. I discovered the root of my food addiction, my work addiction and compulsive spending. None of these “comfort measures” worked to eliminate the inner pain and emptiness from which I was trying to hide. I changed the way I spoke to myself. I forgave myself for not being and doing what I believed I was supposed to be and to do. I repeated these words of forgiveness like a mantra prayer for months until I experienced healing in my emotions. Memories that were once like a brand seemed to belong to someone else. I opened my mind to new ideas; I am not a disappointment to God and my worth as a human being does not depend on doing as much as possible perfectly. I tried things I remembered enjoying as a child. I played with crayons, pastels and clay. I still can’t stay within the lines when I color and that’s OK with me now. In the five years that followed my breakdown, I learned how to let myself feel my emotions. I started to notice my body and give it loving attention, especially guilt-free afternoon naps. Self-help books, 12-step groups, counseling and spiritual direction were some of the tools I used to build a new interior life with God as Guide and Healer. I am no longer terrified of my emotions; I can face them and feel them. I don’t have to hide them under chocolate bars, with romance novels or excessive activity and reckless spending. I am now in my sixties. I love the woman who greets me in the mirror each morning. I don’t need make-up, long fingernails or fashionable outfits to feel good. If the number on the scale is a bit high, I just shrug and do a quick self-check on whether I’ve been drinking enough water and exercising, or if I ate out more often than usual. I decide on corrective action and follow through with no negative “self-talk”. I live a balanced and disciplined life but don’t practice my self-care or spiritual disciplines perfectly all the time. Some weeks are better than others. That’s OK with me because I’m OK with me. If I neglect any of them for long, I feel the “pain” of an imbalance within and I get back on track. This discomfort keeps me on the path I’ve chosen and my life works. Pain pointed me in a new direction. I’m grateful for what my suffering has taught me. I don’t run from the pains that continue to refine me. I am well on the way to becoming the woman I was created to be. Bumps on the road won’t crash me. My shock-absorbers are in excellent working order. Reflection:  What is your usual response to suffering? Does this approach actually help or does it wreak further havoc in your life? Do you see any value to suffering, or do you believe it must be avoided no matter what? Who, or what do you blame for the biggest suffering that you have experienced? |
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Yes, I know some people do that but I'm a creative writer not a journalist. Poetry sells ... but it's a money-maker for only a few. I write A LOT. Almost 180 pieces since Spring equinox. My goal is 300-400 per year. One year I went over 1,000. I need to do more editing, polishing, sharing, submitting. Writer's block? Who has time for that? I don't.