B1.6.18.17, Anonymous

Anonymity be my name

B1.6.18.17, Anonymous

Often I just want to speak into the ether and share my day, my thoughts my musings. I wonder why I have the desire to share, to be heard and a need to have my life on display. Sometimes in public without realizing it I speak a little louder when others are around so they too can hear what I say. Its only recently I've discovered this as my daughter has pointed it out. The honesty and lack of fineness of teens is something I'm grateful for, who else is going to tell this forty something mommy she is a little out there.

Do you narrate your life? I mean in your head mostly, sometimes to others, but mostly in your head. I certainly do. I will write a headline or compose a paragraph highlighting the mundane in all its glory. The peeling of an orange can be narrated if you are me, often I’m crafting a lesson in my head on the how tos of life. Folding laundry and doing dishes, sweeping and washing a mirror. Somewhere along the way my inner self decided I was the authority on how things should get done, thankfully I have learned to keep my mouth shut and my opinions to myself more often than not. I find however when you have these pearls of wisdom, these inner teachings or self directed movies in your head they need an outlet. One that can dump the day and allow new thoughts to fill up my head for the new day.

I am not special but I am. I am not different but I am. I have nothing and everything to say and I find my voice in strange ways. The day will lead my tone, my grammar and syntax. I have a unique story to tell in that it is mine and no others. I’ve experienced some things very few others have and many things many others have and I have just as many words for both. I do find however the words of the past, the ones laced with fear, hate, sorrow and regret are the loudest in my head. Sometimes the stories need to be written to be shed, a moulting of skin, a layer of experience I want to shake off and be rid of. Each telling making the layer thinner and less painful.

Sometimes I’m a linear thinking, my stories have a beginning, middle and end. Other times my thinking is jumbled and my prose crossed with poetry simply because my heart wants to sing as it shouts. Yesterday I wrote a short story, I call it creative non-fiction. It was a memory clear in that it was floating right there at the top of my brain but foggy as it had expired nearly 38 years ago. Today I sit to write and create and all my heart and brain want to do is mix language and words into poetry of a moment in my head and I’m not yet sure what it means or where it came from. This I will save for myself, my poetry and prose a pearl hidden away until someday I’ll find a way to write and create a book. For now my run off feelings and words will land in this blog spot, I hope you will forgive me that selfishness.

Today I am grateful for this oddly commonplace task, the creation of a new blog. A space where time and space and ether all cross wires and technology, mixing strangers and ideas into one large melting pot of a computer for an online community of people who are tellers for those who are information seekers. To anyone, everyone or no one who has read this - thank you for there being a place for me to drop my tangled thoughts with hopes that someone out there is listening. Are you god? Are you the Universe? Are you my neighbor down the road? Thank you, just thank you. I have shared, you may have read and I care now that it is done. Out of my head leaving room for creativity of tomorrow to fill me up again.