IV. if I stay silent long enough

There are times in our lives when we arrive at the end of one chapter and no matter how much we'd like to continue writing it and being part of it, it closes itself, leaving us powerless to do anything about it.
There are times in our lives that make us question everything we thought we knew about ourselves, the direction we're taking, the values we stand for, the decisions that brought us where we are now. But nonetheless, here we are, at another crossroads, and although we are powerless to stop the whirlwind turning everything upside down and closing the door behind us, what lies on our hands now and within our power is the following chapter.

And here I am, at the end of one chapter, at another crossroads, my mind in a whirlwind, but there's a blank page in front of me, so I keep on writing...

I keep on writing, sitting in my old wooden rocking chair, a huge ceramic cup full of coffee in my hands, crackling briquettes in the background, exactly as I was several months ago when writing my first post here, yet it all feels very different. Setting stays the same, narrator changes. What mattered then, doesn't seem to matter any longer. What I couldn't imagine then, is now more than real.

The society I started here to unite writing or in other ways creative people in Tallinn is growing. Last Friday Linda Cleary, a writer from the UK, arrived. I showed her around the old town and then we ended up in a pub, talking about her struggles and experiences as a freelance writer and creative writing teacher, and planning the upcoming events. On Saturday, we had our usual writing session combined with Linda's author reading, screening of her poetry movie and a short interview at the end of the evening. On Sunday, she delivered a great writing workshop based on Haruki Murakami's A Wild Sheep Chase, in which I wanted to take part with others at first but then decided to rather hide away in a window recess and spy on Linda and her teaching methods, as she really knows what she's doing with her students. It filled me with such joy to watch all the people writing, getting passionate and inspired, and made me realize how meaningful it is to keep the events going.

Sometimes I struggle to see meaning in what I'm doing here, sometimes I sit in class trying hard to convince myself to pay attention, not able to grasp why I should care about what we study there, sometimes I lie awake in the dark trying to understand what's written in the story I live and how I narrate the story to myself. Sometimes I wish I could fly away somewhere far and leave all that weighs me down behind but then I find myself in a window recess in the old town, streetlights slowly lighting up the foggy evening outside, in front of me writing souls lighted up by Linda's fiery writer's heart, and it makes me realize that everything is alright. And more than that. It makes me remember that little girl inside of me with pockets full of fantastic stories and crazy adventures that almost got buried for good. She sits there with me and watches the fire. After all the obstacles in the way, her heart is lighted up too, she's not buried anymore.

And she's sitting here now with me in my rocking chair, as I am about to start writing another chapter. There are times in my life when nothing seems to make sense and I find myself powerless, left with another blank page on my hands. But then if I stay silent long enough, she sits beside me and I can hear her whisper in my ear that everything is alright as long as I keep on writing.

And so I do...



As usual, I'm closing this entry with another poem. This one I wrote two weeks ago on my way back to Tallinn when passing through Lithuania. It's about stripping down the old version of yourself and becoming a new one. And about rivers, poppies, daisies, swallows and cormorants.

Proplouvá Nemunas ospalým ránem
včera byla jsem vlaštovkou
a dnes jsem kormoránem

Tak jako řeka, co byla, není
co mnou proplouvá, stále se mění
kým večer usnu,
nejsem za rozednění

Proplouvá Nemunas noční mlhovinou
dnes jsem vlčím mákem
zítra budu kopretinou.

Kommentaarid

  1. Thank you for these beautiful words! It feels comforting not to be the only one in a state of scattering and coming together almost simultaneously. I hope that girl who wonders never gets buried.

    VastaKustuta

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