Writing the Rainbows

I sometimes, no, often, get myself into a spin.

It happens, that when something is challenging, difficult and messy (mild words for ‘WTF is going on?’)

I write. I write for myself, with words you will never see.

I write for myself – and they end up in the draft pile

I write for myself, with words that you sometimes see

I have thoughts and ideas of stuff I could write about and come back to later.

I also, in the moments through the mind swirl of the WTF moments, develop new creative interests.

Oh, I just realised.

STFU James.

I haven’t existed without ‘that’ mind swirl.

There has barely been times when the damaging effect of my psychopathic parents doesn’t have some underlying, or explicit effect, that I might be in the midst of processing, learning, and regrouping myself from, the ‘big’ feelings.

But what I find interesting, is that I struggle to write, or even want to write when im not having to wrestle, churn or try and deal with something.

Its as if there’s creative energy from within it.

Expression through Depression for want for a better word.

And there’s something interesting too.

I find it really easy to invalidate my own work – not because it’s not any good.

But because of what I was going through at the time.

It’s like ‘ I dont think I’ll publish that, because I was definitely having a WTF kind of day?’

Yes I should check what motives I have for writing, and sometimes I get that wrong, I know – I mean not every one of 1000 blogs in 12 years is with a perfect motive, some cross the line – especially if I have been angry with the government ;-)

But it’s like saying that The Verve shouldn’t have written Bitter sweet symphony when in a depeessive state and waited until they were feeling ok… and as for Damien Rice..

Maybe I have been conditioned to only validate what I write when im feeling good – so not to overshare too much darkness? But is that hopeful or real? Because you really want to hear how I am ok now, but felt shit a few weeks ago, and look at me, giving a great redemptive arc story.

Maybe there’s inspiration in the sticky muddy mess of life, and creativity through and in the pain, maybe thats more human. Maybe polished, is just that, polished, pretend and shiny. Maybe I should just write, because that may be what I am good at. Maybe there is no perfect time to write, maybe actually there will only be ‘in the midst’ of long term processing and remaking (I still reluctant to use recovery as a term tbh) , and there will be pockets of light punctuating the revealing and discoveries. Maybe there’s something about the gritty struggle as much as when it’s like riding s bike downhill with the wind in the back. The glimpses of blissful consciousness concurrent in fields where poppies and thorns grow.

Isnt that what good poetry or songwriting is all about anyway?

Creativity in and through the rainbows of clouds, sunshine and rain.

Holding the float out to surf on the calm and choppy waves

To let the flow of creativity ride, sink or swim on the waves.

Time to write about surfing, sinking or swimming through the waves,

Time to write about life in all its becoming wholeness

Time to release the wrestling with writing, and let it flow.

To open up the doorways into which the channels of life flows.