I keep showing up to the blank page with so much inspiration and energy spread in too many directions to harness one thought long enough to breathe life into it. So much on my mind. There is a poetry book of new poems brewing. Where and how will I publish it seems to be the most pressing questions, when I lie to myself. “What will I write?” Is the question when I’m wallowing in the truth.
I keep going back and forth between whether I should finish, Daughter of Zion (DOZ), the novel I promised to have published and available in September. I’m not even done writing the first draft of DOZ.
Tonight, I am realizing how much truth goes into fiction.
I am on a quest for love. My main character is on a quest for love. I know that love is inside of us, but is it felt there without any outside stimulation or affirmations? I’m wondering if love isn’t like a seed, planted in our spirits that must be watered, pruned and warmed by light.
Something keeps saying, “Finish the poetry book first.” It is a collection of poems about love, not a collection of love poems.
Tonight I realized, I needed to finish my meditation on love before I could explore it in fiction. And that’s why I needed to finish the poetry book. Then again, I’m concerned… Is all of this just talk to make me feel a false sense of progression while I’m becoming stagnant and self sabotaging. I don’t know that I will ever stop meditating on love, or reach any conclusions that won’t bend or break under the weight of time and experience. If I never stop meditating on love how will I ever finish my poetry book about love? The poetry book, I hear, I must finish first.
I am grateful for this clarity, that I must finish the poetry book, first.
I am also feeling a lot of
guilt resistance about focusing solely on the poetry book. That means I will have to stop reading books from and about my time period. It means I have to stop researching all these amazing women, artists and events. It means I will have to stop meditating on pictures and songs I find online. I’m enjoying the research. I feel like I’ve made some new friends and had an entire other life in Harlem.
I guess now, my poems will be more focused. Maybe I will hear my spirit clearer. Instead of piecing together thoughts that may not be true to the path I’m actually taking to clarity on love.
What will I do now, when I’m moved to write in my novel? When I see my main character standing in a room, speaking or behaving in a way that is revealing some eternal truth that moves me to tears or laughter, will I ignore her? Anytime I feel it I need to write it down.
Why does she always shows up when I’m moving through the rituals required to live; while making breakfast, packing lunch and cooking dinner for more lunches. My main character gets at the core of her issues when I’m on the way to work or in the shower. I don’t have time to even write scenes on notecards. If I surrender every time she reveals herself, I might be anchored in enlightened and completely absent from my life…
Pushing on. Let me stop dwelling. I’m going to keep a list of books relative to the period I’m researching.
Just like meditation, I won’t fight resistance, I’m going to become it, examine it and release it. THAT’S SOME BULLSHIT!!! Who taught me this? I’m not becoming resistance, I’m going to let it be and see if there is any value in it. Sometimes resistance is a warning. Sometimes resistance is fear. I won’t be afraid of resistance nor will I surrender to it? Did I really just say I’m going to resist resistance? I’m like the queen of damn riddles tonight.
Tomorrow, I will return all the books I got for research on DOZ. I don’t even care that the Library is closed. Tomorrow I will find a few moments to sit with my feelings on love. Hopefully after a few days of committing to one project, my spirit will be clear enough to show me where we are standing and share the journey in words.
I am praying I stop feeling like I’ve abandoned my child. I pray I stop worrying my main character will disappear, my plot will dissolve and I won’t remember all those moments she moved me in. I pray that when I return to DOZ, with my poetry book done, I have more clarity and truth to tell the rest of Linny’s story. Or, I shouldn’t say “the rest” as if I control the ending. So when I return I can shed light on what parts she wants to share.
Love, Light and Peace