Tag: Writing

Write No Matter What

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Start writing, no matter what. The water does not flow until the faucet is turned on.

Louis L’Amour

I haven’t written anything in a while because I haven’t had anything to write about. But that’s about to change. This year is for writing more and writing better. For writing honestly and openly.

For simply writing. I just have to start.

Old vintage typewriter, close-up.

Tunnel Vision

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There are times in my life when things get especially hard, when the weight of the world crushes down on my shoulders, back and chest. When it gets hard to swallow and the tears threaten to break forth. When the world outside is cold and unforgiving. Now, feels like one of those times. It’s a time when I can no longer see the light at the end of the tunnel. When the tunnel is just a tunnel and the tunnel is never ending.

But, I find that surrounding myself with things that bring their own light to my life, then I at least have a flashlight to guide me within the tunnel. One that shines on the dark spaces and reveals them for what they really are. Simply cracked, grey concrete.

The idea to break through with force and with rage is appealing. But it’s not the only way. I’ve found that if I keep enough battery in the flashlight, if I keep feeding it with the little things that I love, I will eventually find my way out of this tunnel and into the sunshine. To feel the wind on my face or the spray of the sea.

Because I know it’s waiting for me to reach it and to tell me that this, too, shall pass, eventually. So I’m taking the steps to get there, one at a time, flashlight in hand.

No Time At All

Katie Hands1 Comment

It’s been a while, I know.

But then again, a while is subjective, isn’t it?

The same goes for a minute.

Although it’s really just 60 seconds

Out of an infinite number of seconds

We say it when we feel like it’s been much longer.

But a minute is finite

Just like the days, months and years that pass us by

It’s just 60 seconds in 1 minute

60 minutes in an hour

24 hours in a day

7 days in an week

4 weeks in a month

12 months in a year

24/7/365

And yet…

The days grow longer

And the years become shorter

And the lifetime’s you had in the past

Are just a jumping off point for all the lives waiting in your future.

So, maybe it’s been a while

But maybe it’s really been no time at all.

This Too Shall Pass

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Sometimes my brain feels like fire

Sometimes my brain turns to mush

Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning

Sometimes I feel like I’m hushed

Sometimes my mind turns to overdrive

Sometimes my mind, I can’t trust

Sometimes I feel like not talking

Sometimes I feel like a bust

But other times I feel like I’m healing

And those times I feel are a must

It’s in those times that I have to remember

That this all will just pass in a gust

 

#WorldMentalHealthDay

Making Changes

Katie HandsLeave a comment

It’s been a while, I know.

For once, the reason for my absence isn’t due to writers block. In fact, the last few months have lead to more time spent writing than usual.

And that makes me happy. As writing tends to do.

I’ve been reading a lot. And as every good writer knows, the more youread, the better you write.

I’ve had several ideas in my head for new posts but none of them ended up with that feeling I wanted.

images.jpegSo the “publish” button went unpressed. (Who knows, this one might not even make it to the published page)

But I felt like I needed to come back.

And I am. Back, that is.

And I’m making some much needed changes.

The Mind is a Terrible Thing…

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I have this thing with writing. It’s a love/hate thing. It’s a good/bad thing. It’s that thing where you sometimes would rather stick the pen in your eye then stick it to paper. It’s also that thing that puts the blood back in your body after you’ve already lost so much. It flows through the tubes and through your veins. It’s the restarting of your heart.

I have this thing with writing. It’s those dreams that come to you in the dead of night, jerking you awake, only to slip silently away. It’s the moment in the early morning where the words are all there is. Where they’re all you want them to be.

In my mind, every small popcorn kernel is deafening. Popping up when I want them and popping up when I don’t. Exploding when the lights are off and when the shower is running.

When I’m not writing I’m reminded of the things I want to forget and the things I don’t want to hear. And when I am writing, I’m reminded that the mind is a terrible thing…to waste.