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on the power of showing up

note: I wrote this post in April of 2019 (pre-COVID). It's been sitting in my drafts for quite a while, but I think it's time for it to see the light of day. It's been helpful for me to reread over the past few months, especially as I continue to try to make an effort to write, and I hope it can be helpful to you, too. i got an invite to a writers' group a few months ago, and i had never felt like more of a fraud in my life. it had been months, if not years, since i'd felt like a writer. the proverbial well of words in my heart had dried up, it seemed, and i wasn't sure if it was ever coming back. i agreed to go out of a sense of helplessness—i'd identified as a writer ever since i could remember. if i'm not a writer, who am i?  i told myself that it was important to show up and act like a writer even when i didn't feel like one, because even though i hadn't been writing, i reassured myself, i still was a writer. but sometimes the words f

A Hundred Stones

Okay, so I found this snippet of writing that I wrote a while ago. I was actually trying out Write or Die, which is where you have to write a certain amount of words in a certain amount of time [i.e., 500 words in 10 minutes]. It's actually really neat, and as you can imagine, I was typing whatever came to mind in order to reach my goal. This is the result. I wasn't sure what I was thinking of when I wrote it, but I think I had Adam in mind [you know, as in Adam & Eve], and I think you might understand once you read it. I like to think it's some sort of freestyle. Anyway, I thought you would enjoy reading it. [and in case you're wondering, I came up with the title "A Hundred Stones" on the spot.]
~
I don't know what I did,
I was sure that something would be better than nothing.
I ate some fruit... that's all I did.
Why has it unleashed this punishment on the earth?
I can't understand... why is this happening?
The generations after me will hate me,
And they will know that I was the one who let evil be unleashed.
God, where are you?
I can't see you, hear you, or feel you.
Where have you gone?
Please, please come back.
Life is not worth living without you.
I miss our easygoing walks in the gardens,
Where I could tell you anything that was on my heart.
I miss being so innocent, so carefree.
Where has that carefree spirit gone?
My heart is heavy, weighted by a hundred stones.
I cannot bear the consequences I must face.
God, my father, please, make this easier to bear.
Help me to feel that you are there.

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