I sit down at this computer day after day because I’m searching for something. The internet is my portal and my nemesis.
I used to write poetry on a regular basis. Sometimes I’d post it on my short fiction and poetry blog sometimes I wouldn’t. I would write to get the words flowing and hopefully create something beautiful to read.
If I were alive before blogs and internet and instant gratification, I wonder who I would be. Would I write poems just for my family and my self like my great-grandmother? Would my children later bind my poems together into a book? Or would I put down my pen in favor of the washing and the cooking and the children? Would I write more because I felt no pressure, or would I write less because I had no one to share it with?
Does the internet paralyze or liberate? I daresay both. It depends on how we use it or let it use us.
When I started writing poetry back in the third grade it was for the love of it because everything we do as children is for the love of it. Back when we were creatures of pure passion. Now we have bills to pay and ourselves to impress. Distractions that shadow our passions. We stop creating just for creation’s sake. We’re too busy.
I think the people who really have got it going on, the people who inspire and move and make change with their life’s work are the people who never lose that part of themselves: that creature of pure passion. They let their creature loose everyday whether they’re solving problems in corporate america or pounding the pavement in a pair of running shoes or raising children or designing websites or churning out content or making dinner or teaching yoga or…
Creatures of pure passion feel indifferent towards accolades and money and fame. They want only to kiss the earth and leave an imprint of love. The more we allow space for the creature to play, the less frightened we will become by her creations, and the more freely we can create in all our favorite ways.
When I stopped writing poetry I shut down one of my creatures. Now I’m inviting her back by sitting down with my pen and letting her be free, unconcerned by the scrutiny of the internet or the passage of time.
She loves tall trees and dandelion wishes and she’s not afraid of sharing.
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Are you searching for your creatures?
Are you letting them out to play?
What do your creatures love?