I am inspired to write (thanks Jeff Goins! - writing coach), and I have come here…then all of a sudden (now that the 'camera’ is recording) really its just the writing app is open, I feel like I don’t know what to write. So I begin where I am.
Is this the place to start?
I thought I would write about the smells of the Earth, the scent of a flower, of a woman.
Instead I Write:...
The slow cadence of walking at night…just for the sake of it. Feeling into each footstep, practicing pre-sense.
I feel guilty if I miss smelling a flower, or dont touch this or that tree. I make myself obsessed with connection, non-human connection. Im used to this kind of connection. Maybe its safer to me in some way. But still the obsession is a little maddening: it reminds me of when I was about 11. I was with my best friend (at the time) Gordon, and he mentioned a word I hadn’t heard before, "Demolish", he says and his meaning is clear…use the rock to smash the bricks, or bugs, or other thing. I dont remember the thing he told me to demolish, but the word itself became very fixed in my mind…my 11 year old mind. I became obsessed with that word, and it followed me around for at least the next few hours, repeating itself in my head every few minutes or so. This was the first or earliest memory I have of feeling obsessed with something.
Nowadays I see this kind of fixation in different forms. I create routines like brushing my teeth with both right and left hands, the right does the cleaning and the left does the rinsing brush, or in the case of my walks," I must smell every flower I notice, or touch every tree within the distance of my arms!" Otherwise I feel guilty.
Partly because I have personified flowers and trees, or actually almost everything. As a young child I used to personify the food I hadn’t eaten for dinner and was now scraping off my plate into the garbage. "Sorry" I would say, as the peas, or cold mashed potatoes would slide off my plate into the 'pit of no return'…perhaps I was just creative, but still I felt guilty. Now with the trees and flowers, "They will be sad if I smell/touch their neighbour but not them." I have projected my shortcomings onto these unwitting co-conspirators of my obsession. My need to connect. To feel worthy? Different?
Sometimes I am shy and if I notice a person coming my way, I will stop smelling the flower or touching the tree, like a clandestine trist, a spontaneous kiss with a stranger. Im not in France after all. This is moderate, shy, apologetic Canada. We appreciate nature from a distance, at a fast pace, or with vigorous activity. Never up close, personal and intimate. People will think I’m weird, or a hippy…of which, of course, I am both.
So how do I balance the need to connect without the obsessions and personifications, and especially without the fear of self-consciousness.