Tuesday, November 29, 2016

The Shelf Life of Love




A friend recently asked me to remind her where my blog sits.  It isn’t that I haven’t been writing, but I haven’t been posting.  I write and read to Mark and he tells me “ put that on your blog…”  I think about it and then the day passes and the world’s crazy energy swirls me around and I think how weak my words are and I leave them, just ink in my notebooks. But I know  that it isn’t good to capitulate to the thought that small offerings don’t matter. I have received  single sips of water from others that made all the difference in difficult terrain.
 To overcome my “sharing block,”  today I took a photo of my morning’s scribble :

10 comments:

creativewending said...

I love how you express your thoughts. Also, what kind of pen did you use?

GretchenJoanna said...

You've got me stumped with, "What is the half life of love?" The thought of love dwindling just doesn't make sense to me - that would be a lack of love, I think. Love abounds more and more. But maybe that's what you were getting at. I know it's what you are living.

Jeannette said...

Ha ha...that's right, GJ, Love doesn't diminish...even when it waits around to be discovered.

Jeannette said...

Elizabeth, I have old nib pens of my father's. Some of them are equipped to draw ink up out of a bottle. This one I can buy cartridges for it and so I tend to use it more than others, being messy as I am. Thank you for your kind thoughts.

Georgia Schrager said...

Beautiful, Jeannette. I've had those same feelings about my childhood garden

joanne said...

opportunities that were never taken...I often wonder where those roads would have lead me. Maybe a happier life and love, less loss and tears. I can only hope I chose the right path. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

Rachel said...

I'm amazed that those are just your morning's scribble...poetry seems to pour out of you...
(You happen to have great hand-writing, too, which I quite envy...)
I'm curious about this relationship between a private journal and a blog...I write for myself almost daily but only maybe 1x/week on my blog...sometimes I think I should post more...but the ideas are inchoate..interested in how others navigate this terrain...

Jeannette said...

How does one navigate this terrain, indeed? Thank you, Rachel, for the stimulating question and the sweet compliments.

There are so many kinds of journeys, ranging from out for stroll to circumnavigating the globe. I think any accurate navigation has to have a lodestar from which flow not only direction but hope and purpose.

Inchoate ideas, however incipient or rudimentary, even they have roots; they have fathers and mothers and maybe lots of crazy cousins. Exploring the fundaments of your current mindset, laying bare to yourself your full heritage and seeing, even experiencing, what it is you have covered over, abandoned or neglected to account for, such understudy can inform you in your journey forward and is likely to illuminate your chronicles. Some writing is like a mirror, some like a map. I try to be careful posting unless I have clarity about what I am reflecting and why. It is a great challenge, but then writers need to interact with people, that is to say, readers, and blogging is such an opportunity to do a sound check for resonance.
Thank you, Rachel, for responding.
That goes for the rest of you dear readers and commentaries too.

Rachel said...

Wow - I need to read & re-read this when my toddler is not pretending to eat using knitting needles as chopsticks next to me...incredible writing here and you've really made me think (with a bit of embarrassment, to be honest) about exercising more restraint in posting...

Rachel said...

I'm still trying to do justice to your guidance here. I wrestled with it - weighed it against Elizabeth Gilbert--quoted some of it on my blog (credit to you obviously & hope that's okay) - and still haven't...gotten to where I ....have any additional clarity, necessarily...but I thank you, for understanding the roots, the mirrors and maps...and the need for interaction, too.